The Fury of Ten
by I Am Number Four
Summary: (SPOILERS FOR REVENGE OF SEVEN)The Garde are separated, divided, and weakened. The Mogs have made their first move in the invasion of Earth. But can we make our play before all is lost? As Henri said, new developments are yet to present themselves; hope is the last to go. This is the endgame, and we WILL win. I am Number Four. Lorien will rise again. Collab - Cinco & Blue
1. I - Aftermath

**Hi guys! This is Arctic Blue and Numero Cinco, and we're here to bring you a new collab fanfic called ****_The Fury of Ten! _****It takes place right after Revenge of Seven, so if you haven't read it yet, be prepared for MAJOR SPOILERS. Anyways, we hope you like it! Just so you guys recognize our distinct writing styles, Blue will be writing the PoVs of Marina, Ten, and Mark James, while Numero Cinco will be writing the PoVs of Four, Adam, and Five. Please read and review! Thanks :D**

* * *

******BOOK ONE- THE FUGITIVES**

**Chapter 1: Aftermath**

[Four I - Numero Cinco]

AS THE PIKEN FLIES backwards, scraping against the hard brick walls of the alley, Sam stumbles. "W-w-what?" He utters, breathless.

"Sam!" I yell, as the Piken looming to its feet once again, a gaping hole on its chest but otherwise unaffected. Its hideous black appendages grabs onto another fire escape and wrestles it towards itself, the screech booming down the brick walls.

He doesn't even think. He acts on impulse; Sam pushes forward again, thrusting into the air in front of him. And the Piken stumbles.

I almost laugh. "How… How are you doing this?!"

"I don't know!" He answers in awe, making a sweeping motion that trashes the Piken into a dumpster. It rattles on its wheels but stays in place, dumping the top most bags onto the creature's head. I don't understand. This is Sam, right? Setrakus Ra isn't here with me? No, he can't; we broke his obsidian staff…

This is Sam. So why does it look like he has a Legacy?

The Piken flies up into the air, landing somewhere on a rooftop. Sam seems to have… almost… thrown it? A spray of gunfire from behind wakes me up from my trance. "Mr. Smith! We need to go!" It's the young police officer from earlier- the one who knew my name.

Right. We're in a battle. Whatever happened to Sam… we can figure it out later.

"Smith!" The Agent says again, and I turn to look. "What should we do?" My now fifty-ish followers break from combat for a split second to look up at me. Where should we go? Well, where would a leader go? Somewhere where there's backup, obviously. I wonder where Nine and Five went.

"Agent! What's your name?" I bark to the officer who's been talking with me.

"Beck Alliser," He mutters a reply. "Smith, what are we doing?"

"Alright Alliser, I need to know. Are any places still holding them off?"

He shrugs. "How should I know?"

I keep thinking. _Where would be safe?_ Then I remember. "Do you think the police station is still holding out?"

He scowls up at me. "I don't know. I would suppose so. It's in the opposite direction, though."

"Well, that's our play. Right, Sam?"

He's still staring at his hands in awe, pretty much ignoring my every word, I grab him by the arm and pull him along. "We'll figure it out," I whisper to him for a split second.

"Yeah, we will," is all he can muster. And with that, we charge back out of our alley. There's fire everywhere; noise everywhere, piercing wails from all directions. I keep up a brisk jog, heading off the front of our rag-tag army.

Five and Nine. I can't just leave them to kill each other, can I?

No new scars, right? They must be getting along perfectly. No, who I am kidding? They might have blown each other to near death. As long as they don't die, though, I can help. Wherever they are. I'm imagining a protracted battle somewhere around Ra's stage. I don't like imagining it, but I do it all the same.

I see Five's dented metal skull and missing teeth, I see Nine looking the same. It'd help if I could find them. But... Do I even want to heal Five?

I'll figure it out later.

Two skimmers turn the corner at the end of the road and charge us, like a joust. They don't know what they're getting into. I push Sam back subconsciously and step forward, lighting my hands. They ignite and I let the fire lick up my arms- it's almost a comforting feeling, like hugging yourself. I pitch two fireballs, one for each ship, in their direction. They never stood a chance anyway. They burst into flames and explode, shattering like broken glass and raining their burning contents onto the ground below.

"With me!" I scream back at my followers, and charge down the street. A contingency of Mogs rounds the corner and I gleefully spring over to them, almost teleporting, socking the first right in the nose, almost through his head, and he burst away and turns to wisps. The others- I count five more- try to level their guns, but they don't get the chance. I shove all of their hands down- all ten of them- and send them flying backwards into the side of a building.

"Come on!" I bellow down the street. No one approaches. "Come ON!"

Two burning tars rip their way across the road - from me. I tear a building apart, lighting it up and blowing up a gas line with a well-aimed meteor. Where are they? "Finish what you started!"

Sektrakus Ra- the one who started all this- is hiding in his ship high above, the one that's still firing far in the distance, to the south somewhere. I just wish that I could fly to get him.

Calm down," Sam comforts me. "It's… alright."

"It's not alright! Can't you see? Their invasion's happened!" I tug my hair, almost ripping out a portion of it. How can I know who's safe? The Garde are all safe, for now- I'm certain. But what about Malcolm and our stronghold in Ashwood? What about Sarah and Mark, hidden away in the Deep South?

And Five and Nine, ripping each other apart somewhere deep inside the city... That scares me the most. Now, of all times, we can't afford to lose another Garde. And we might just lose two.

Just then, another squad of Mogadorians comes barreling around the corner at us. Just what I needed. I close the gap between us in seconds, pulling the same move that I pulled on the Mogs a few seconds ago. I hear the pops from far away that signifies my squadron opening fire, but I don't care. As I crash into the first Mog, I swing his broken head into another causing them both to flare up and turn to ash.

I fling fireballs at one side of the group, while the other half gets pecked to death by gunfire. That's right. Take it.

When they all fall, I look back to my squadron and give them a slight nod before running forwards again, into the fray. All around me, wreckage lays. There's disembodied steel girders lying broken in the streets. There, tangled between the noise of the fire and the explosions, I hear the screams.

So many screams.

I can't save them all.

I just can't. Not now, not today.

That's when I see some kind of black, almost obsidian-looking tank turning the corner far in the distance. It maneuvers into a firing position while I gawk, and fires a single shot. The missile sails over our heads and explodes into the side of a Mog skimmer.

The UN. Of course it's the UN.

Glass flies out all around, hailing down upon us. I take shelter underneath an overhang and my army follows my lead, ducking and hiding their heads from the bombardment.

Not here, not today.

"Alliser!" I holler across to wherever he's hiding in the rabble. He shoves his way across to me.

"Yes, Smith?" He's more alert than he was. I wonder why. Maybe the tank. Probably the tank.

"Where's the NYPD? We need to retreat to there," I let out a breath. "For now. And tell the UN to retreat too."

He nods solemnly. "Yes sir. Right away, sir."

Not today.

* * *

[Ella I - Arctic Blue]

When I wake up, the _Anubis _is airborne again.

My head hurts like hell from where Setrakus Ra touched me. I have no idea what's going on; I'm back in my bedroom. It's as if nothing has happened since I first got here. Everything is the same, even the stupid Great Book lying on the elegant desk beside me.

"Where are we?" I shout at the book, hoping that Ra is listening. "What's going on?"

The book does not respond.

I try to remember what happened in New York. My memories are fuzzy, and the aching in my head has intensified. John...John was trying to kill Setrakus Ra. He almost succeeded. If he did, both of us would be dead by now.

But Five stopped him. Five, the traitor. He saved my life; but he saved Setrakus Ra too. I still have the Mog link; they can't kill me without killing the big freak. _Oh, God. _I think. _How are we ever going to win this? I need to persuade the others to kill me. I need to sacrifice myself. _Just the thought of it worries me. _They're never going to agree to it. They won't be able to kill me when the time comes._

And then I remember. Setrakus Ra's Achilles's heel. _I _can kill him! The thought almost makes me giddy with joy. If I can find some sort of weapon, I can kill him, and end this war. I'm so excited I jump out of my bed, before I realize that I don't have a weapon. I could use the book again, but I doubt that it do him any harm.

Sighing, I get back on the bed again and pull up the sheets. Since I don't have any weapons, I'll have to use my powers instead. I run over my very short list of Legacies: Aeternus, Telepathy, Telekinesis, and Dreynen. I can't hurt Setrakus Ra by turning younger, and I can't kill him with my telepathy. Telekinesis is nice, but I don't think I can defeat him by slamming him into a wall over and over again.

Then there's my Dreynen. I'll be using that, of course, but again, it's really non-lethal. I growl in frustration. I wish that I had a more useful legacy; a fighting legacy, like Nine's super strength, John's fire, Five's Externa, and Six's storm. But mostly I wish that I had some kind of Inheritance. Even a slingshot would be useful.

Just as I start wishing for a good slingshot and some razor-sharp rocks, the door swings open and Setrakus Ra enters my bedchambers. With his staff broken, he's as ugly as ever, but at least I won't see that fake plastic smile anymore.

"Where are we?" I step up to him and ask. "What did you do to John? Why..."

Before I finish my sentence, he telekinetically slams me against the wall, hard. I cry out in pain; I think he broke one of my legs. Setrakus Ra looks at me with a murderous glint in his eyes, and grasps my throat in a chokehold. I can't breathe; he's gradually squeezing the life out of me.

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED THERE!" He shouts, with a ferocity I've never seen before. "HOW DID YOU WOUND ME?"

So he knows, too. He knows that I've found out his weakness. I try to formulate some sort of lie, but the pain is overwhelming. I'm on the verge of passing out, when he slams me on the floor. "TELL ME!"

I take a gulp of fresh air, and try to move my leg in vain. Yep. Definitely broken. "I thought _John_ hurt you." I say in a small voice. "I was so scared, I didn't see what was happening." The filthy lie comes out of my mouth before I can will myself to stop talking. I'm disgusted by my own weakness. And then I realize that my lies will keep him less suspicious. I'll pretend that I'm his loyal, Mogadorian-loving, bratty granddaughter, and I'll have plenty of chance to assassinate him.

"Good." He helps me up. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, granddaughter. John Smith and the others will pay for what they did to me. But _you_ will be my heir."

"Um... thanks." I respond. "So where are we?"

"We're hovering above New York." He tells me, already become the forgiving but disgusting creature that's been trying to recruit me since I got aboard. "Our original appearance has been distorted by the Garde. I intend for that to settle down before we make our final attack. For now, we track our enemy, wait until they regroup, and then eliminate them completely."

_Your enemies are my friends, freak. _I think. "That's such a great plan." I say, snorting.

I can't let him believe that I've turned so suddenly. I need to put on a show, pretend I gradually change from a Loric into... well, into a creature like him. "But it might work." I mutter, doubtfully, just to fool Ra. He hears it, of course, and smiles, which is sort of unsettling with his jagged brown teeth.

"You are learning, granddaughter." He tells me. "My plan _will_ work. We will watch the world burn together."

"They're going to defeat you, you know." I tell him. "They're going to defeat you, and I'm going to help them do it."

"Oh, of course." Setrakus Ra laughs as if my threat does not bother him in the slightest. "But how will they bring themselves to kill me," he leans close and I smell his horrible breath in my face, "when they'll be too afraid to harm you?"

I take a few steps backward. "Get away from me. You know nothing about my friends. They'll do everything they can to stop you."

He laughs again, an ugly sound, not unlike nails scratching on a blackboard. "What friends are they, then, if they will sacrifice the life of an innocent young girl just to get revenge?"

I open my mouth to protest, but I act as if I don't know what to say. I look down at the floor and mumble. "They're my friends. They're my species."

"Being your species does not make them your friends, granddaughter. They have deceived you with their petty lies and tricks. Embrace your power. We will rule over them."

I shake my head. "I won't do it." I tell him, but I make sure that I do not sound convinced; I make sure that he hears the doubt in my voice. When I look at him again, the triumphant look on his face tells me that I've fooled him.

"You will when the time comes, dear." He tells me. "As for now, I believe you are ready for one of your Inheritances; something that can be used for offensive purposes.

I almost laugh out loud. A weapon is exactly what I need to assassinate him, and the old fool is giving me one. I must have convinced him with my acting. But I frown just to be sure. "No, thanks. I don't want anything related to you Mogs." I tell him.

"Ah, but this weapon is from Lorien." He smiles and gestures for me to come with him. I don't want to go anywhere, but I'm also kind of curious. The door opens with a flick of his hand, and he starts down the hallway. My curiosity gets over the better of me, and I follow Ra into a room that I don't recognize. It's impeccably white, and a brilliant cobalt slab of Loralite is set in the center like an altar for a sacrifice.

Setrakus Ra touches his hand on the Loralite, and the slab glows and hums with power. Right. I forgot. He's a freaking mutated Loric-Mog. The slab parts into two and folds at the sides: I'm seeing a variety of items on the Loralite; a pouch of sweet-smelling dust, a few gems, and other things I can't identify: there's a collection of orbs that I guess is my Macrocosm, another, separate glass orb, a pin of some sort, a pair of dark glasses just like the ones Eight broke back in India, and a coin that is ominously glowing red. Ra ignores everything else and picks up a short but, sharp looking curved steel blade. It looks like something in between a scalpel and a dagger, and the steel is pure black. The handle is simple but elegant, adorned with a single gem of Loralite.

"This," Setrakus Ra addresses me, "will be your weapon." He hands me the blade, and I spin it around, the handle fitting snugly in hand. I focus on my Dreynen and it reaches out to my dagger, infusing it with a red glow.

"Very good." My grandfather says. "In Lorien, this was called an Necrerian dagger. It literally means 'parting of the soul from the body'. Use it well."

_Oh, you bet. _I think. _I'll use it to part the soul from your ugly pale corpse. _"Thanks. I guess." I tell him. "What if I lose it in battle, when I use it as a throwing knife?" I ask.

"The blade will recognize its mistress." He replies. "It will appear in your hand anytime you wish for its appearance."

_This could be handy. So he can't forcefully take it away from me. _"Oh. Cool." I say, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"Now we must return to your studies of the Great Book." Setrakus tells me, and walks away. "If you're obedient, we can spend the afternoon honing your combat skills. Follow me."

I take the blade in my hand, but as I turn to leave, I can't help but notice the chest sitting on the corner. It looks strangely familiar. And then I realize why.

_Hang in there, guys. _I think to my fellow Garde, as I walk out of the room. I know they probably can't hear me, but I don't care. _One dead Setrakus Ra and one Loric Chest, coming up._

* * *

**So that's the end of Chapter 1 :D Next update coming out in about three days. Thanks if you can review, and follows as well as favorites are definitely appreciated. I'll shortly link this to my main fanfic, so I really hope readers of both our fanfics can read this :D Stay awesome, guys!**

**-Arctic Blue and Numero Cinco**

**8/28/14**


	2. II - Indecision

**Chapter 2: Indecision**

[Five I - Numero Cinco]

_Nine is not a nice boy. Or man? I'm not sure what I should call him. Either way, he doesn't play nice. He doesn't play fair. But at least didn't murder his Cepan. He had told me that in the past, I just… I was too brainwashed to see the truth of his words._

_But I'm not a nice boy, either. And I don't play fair either. It's, of course, reflected in our faces and our bodies, tattered and beaten. He's still unconscious under those layers of towels,, even though the sun has already risen. I don't know what to do when he wakes up; try to reason with him, or defend myself? I don't know. All I can think about is the events of yesterday._

* * *

Nine tried to charge Ra. I tried to save her, since I knew that he was going to kill Ella in the process. That it would take two gruesome swings to kill Ra, one with Ella screaming in the background. And one with her silent.

Nine doesn't know about the charm. He thinks I just stopped him from killing Ra and, he's not wrong. He's not right either, but fuck him. The little bastard uppercuts me either way.

And then shit explodes.

John charges after his retreat. Before I can make sense of that, Nine punches me to the ground. I swoop out from underneath him and hover above while he jumps and tries to grab me from below.

He succeeds.

Have you ever tried flying with an elephant on your back? No? Well, I don't recommend it.

He tries to claw his way up my leg, my steel leg… and his fingernails sink it. I try to reason with the bitch, as any loyal Garde should do, but he doesn't listen. What an animal.

So I do the only thing I can do. I shake him off. Except that doesn't work.

I try to fly around, scraping him off on the sides of buildings. That works marginally.

"Nine!" I shout down at him. "It doesn't have to be this way! I was trying to help!"

"Sure you were! Of course! Always the good guy, right, you vicious bastard!" He snarls back.

"You don't understand! Ra was using Ella as a shield!"

"No, he fucking wasn't, you liar! I saw her, trying to get away! From you Mog bastards! You did something to her… You tortured her!" I see his eyes widen. "Oh my God, she didn't have the god damned Loric Charm to protect her! What the FUCK did you guys do to her?" His hiss screeches through the chaos around us.

"No, it's not that!" I try. "It was a Mog charm!" I can feel the edges of my vision blackening, tunneling. He's trying to rake his way up my calf… God, why is he such an animal?

Above us, the Mogs open fire. Their bullets aren't necessarily directed at us- they look like they have bigger problems down below. Through my darkening vision I think I see flashes of fire- John? Maybe. Maybe just explosions.

"Nine! If I drop, you drop too!" I try again, but he doesn't listen.

"At least you go TOO!" He takes his arm off my leg for a second, and I take the opportunity, ducking and swerving into the side of the Empire State Building. I smash him against a large pane of glass and finally the pain in my leg is gone.

It's gone. He's gone. I can leave now, go wherever I want. But I don't. I curve around the flank of the famous skyscraper and find its shattered window among the other shattered windows.

The Mogs use only bullets for now, raining them down like a horrific hail. They ping innocently off of my metal skin, as they should, but Nine looks far worse for wear. His head is starting to swell and he's overall incredibly bruised from top to bottom. Probably with a few bones broken here and there. Good. Let him know what it feels like.

I hover just far enough that he can't reach my by jumping. I think.

"Nine! Let it end!"

"N-never…" He mutters helplessly. "Not to your kind…"

"I don't want to hurt you!" I wince.

He gestures weakly to his broken body. "A little late, don't you think?"

"You were trying to kill us both!"

"I was trying to kill… you…" And he's out.

Good? Maybe. Maybe not. I know we can't stay here, though. It's entirely evident that the Mogadorians will have the city entirely occupied by sunset, maybe before, depending on their tactics and how quickly they can neutralize John Smith, somewhere below.

How can I be talking like this? I'm supposed to be one of them, yet I contemplate John's death with reckless abandon…

I could go find him. Get him to heal off Nine. Somehow I don't think that would end well for me.

Listen to yourself…

The two voices in my head don't shut up- neither of them, Loric or Mogadorian, no matter how much I shout at them to shut up. They just keep on like old, sickly men with nothing to lose.

I grab Nine's limp body, throw him over my metal shoulder and shoot off into the sky at top speed. A selfish part of me wants to just throw him onto the ground and get it over with, but I don't. I don't let him get hurt. Marina still hates me for what I did to Eight, so do John and Six and Ella and pretty much everyone else. I can't just kill another one of them, even if it's him.

We're over New Jersey in an instant, Pennsylvania in a few more instances. I've gotten faster at this sonic flight gig, better, under Mogadorian regimens. I was able to make the leap from Florida to Brazil in just under an hour before my rendezvous with my kind, and I've only gotten faster.

The ground below is full of, well, people. I make sure to cross over the Delaware and get a good look at Philly- the city itself is undamaged, but the roads aren't. The traffic jams are horrendous, packed up for miles in every direction. People fleeing for the country. I should warn them that that won't save them, that nothing can save them now. _Except the Garde,_ the Loric part of me thinks.

Yeah. Sure. Like they're gonna defeat the Mogs with one of them broken, one of them captured and the rest separated from each other.

And that's how we ended up here. It's a dingy little motel on the outskirts of Pittsburgh- a city I know from Ra's own plans is only a 4th Wave Target. We're safe for now.

The waves and droves of Mogs will come for us one day, a few from now. Between three and five days for each wave, if I remember the plans Ra presented to me correctly. Enough time to curb unrest… by questionable reasons.

Enough time for the Loric Resistance to assemble? Probably not, but I've known them to do it before. They can do it again.

I don't want to care. Fuck the Mogs. Fuck the Loric. Fuck all of them. I just want peace. A permanent refuge from this madness.

* * *

Restraints were never a thing to hold the "great" Number Nine. He told us a story once, of his travels with Four, about how he could pop three handcuffs off at the same time without any trouble. I needed a new plan.

When he wakes me up, he will kill me. I know that. That's one of the few things I do know about the "elusive" Nine.

Our motel is just the same as any- to beds, a bathroom with a sink and a toilet and a tub. The edges of the faucet of the tub are corroded and green, almost like unbrushed teeth. Sharp, almost. It's the best place I'll get.

I take Nine's body, still pretty dead, thankfully, and toss him into the tub like a ragdoll. He dings against the faucet, almost breaking it off, but other than that he slides right in.

I take all the towels in the place, as well as one of the bed comforters, and bury him in them. Making sure he still has a breathing hole, I telekinetically twist the shower head on; it makes an uncomfortable screeching as it moves. My mountain of cloth quickly soaks through, dripping onto the tub below through the noise of the shower pouring down. I take the long end of the comforter, which I made sure to put on the bottom, and trail it out over the floor. The toilet is warm and heavy as I lift it off its foundation, spurting water all around the room. Not like it's not already wet or anything.

I wonder for a brief second why I don't just kill him now; It would be easy. I could just let the water drown him, don't hold the heavy quilt back like I've been doing. But that… that would let the Mogadorians win, or at least give them a head up. And as much as I hate the Loric, I can't let the Mogs take another one of their lives.

The Garde need Nine.

Fine. They need him. Then why am I keeping him? I could… say, admit him to a hospital or something. Or just leave the hotel room, lay him in the bed and leave. Why don't I do that again?

They don't need me. The Garde don't need me. They don't want me, either. I roughly feel the edges of the bandage over my eye, remembering that dark day in the swamp. The day the Beloved Leader knew his victory was a certain.

No. I don't think like that anymore. I'm not on the Mog's side anymore, just like I'm not on the Lorics'. And maybe… Maybe if I deliver him alive to the rest… they'll leave me alone. And then I can do whatever I want.

But what do I want?

I don't know.

[Seven I - Arctic Blue]

"So, what do we do now?" Six asks.

We're still in the Sanctuary, breathing in the air of Lorien. None of us really want to leave; but we have to. The war is raging; the others need us. We did something amazing, bringing the entity to life again. Well, I don't really know _what _we did. But I'm hoping that it worked. When I kissed Eight, I felt...

_Oh, God. Eight. _I want to burst into tears again, but I don't. I can't. Not here. Not in front of Six, my only friend now. Not in front of Adam, who I've decided to trust despite my initial misgivings.

When I kissed Eight, I felt whole again. I didn't feel like some sort of revenge seeker bent on bringing the world down, just so she could get what she wanted. I didn't feel like the young girl that I was, so insecure and unsure of herself. I felt like myself. I felt like I finally understood who I am.

"We leave." I tell Six. "We rejoin our friends, this time with the spirit of Lorien on our side."

"Um." Adam clears his throat. "That's nice and all, but what does that mean, exactly?"

"Remember what Malcolm said?" I keep my calm. Don't think about Eight. Don't think about Eight. "Lorien isn't a planet. It's a force. It can inhabit any planet it deems worthy, and we just made it inhabit Earth."

"Marina is right." Six tells him. "I can feel it too. The only thing is, how do we get out of here?"

"Oh almighty Loric God?" Adam speaks to the well in front of us. "Thanks for everything, but uh, can you show us the way out? That would be awesome, thank you. And uh, please don't pulverize us?"

Six gives him the evil eye.

"What? I was trying to be practical!" Adam protests.

Before Six replies, the blue glow coming from the well ascends, and then solidifies into a shining door.

"Well, that works too." I mutter under my breath.

"Ladies first?" Adam asks.

Six opens the door; and we're instantly blinded by the light coming out of where ever it leads to. Covering her eyes, Six goes inside. I follow her, and immediately feel the familiar feeling of teleportation. When my eyes adjust to the light again, I find us back outside of the temple of Calakmul. I'm looking for our Skimmer, when I hear a voice inside my head, accompanied by the sound of static. It's like someone tried to call me from under a bridge: I can vaguely make out the words "guys", "Setrakus Ra", and "Chest", but the rest is blurred out. Anyhow, I recognize what is clearly Ella's voice.

_Ella? _I think. _Where are you?_

Silence.

I must have been imaging things. Ella is still up in space, in one of the warships; there's no way I could've heard her from this far. Her telepathy only works when she's on Earth, right?

"Uh, Adam? Where's our skimmer?" Six asks, incredulously. She shows no sign of having heard the telepathic message from Ella. I really am hallucinating, then.

"It was right here!" Adam complains. "How could it have, what, flown away by itself?"

"Well, guess we're stuck in this Mayan temple, just sitting here while the Mogs invade Earth." She replies.

"Maybe the Mogs remote controlled it some how?" I suggest. "Just like how Adam piloted our ship when we were back in the Everglades."

"They can't." He tells me. "Back in Ashwood, I built a firewall so secure, it'll take at least four whole days for them to hack in our system."

"Well, your skills are a little rusty, Mog." Six tells him. "Where's Dust?"

"Shit. He was supposed to guard our ship so that Phiri couldn't come back and steal it." Adam remembers. "I guess she must have caught him by surprise or something. She could be anywhere now!"

"I'm guessing that she didn't go too far." I tell my friends. "Look."

Behind us hovers a gigantic warship, even larger than the one we saw in Florida. It's covered with blasters larger than four skimmers combined, and docks at least forty smaller fighters jets.

"Shit." Six mumbles under her breath. "They've become bigger. And what the hell is that?"

She's pointing at the starboard, where a massive device is constructed. It looks like a cross between a drill and a pack of explosives. Around it, Mog technicians are adjusting the machine, attaching spare parts and pressing random buttons. It's like they're assembling something powerful, something that can seriously affect this planet.

"Oh, no." Adam looks like he's about to faint. "I've seen those before, back when my people attacked Lorien." His expression hardens. "We have to destroy it. before they can use it. We have to destroy it _now._"

"What is it?" I ask, bemused.

"It's what the Mogs praise as the ultimate weapon in Mogadorian conquest." He spits, disgusted. "We call it the vacuum. When it's activated, all of Earth's natural resources; water, minerals, precious gems, oxygen, soil; _everything _will be depleted, and sent towards that warship over there. Earth will become an empty husk, just like Mogadore and Lorien. If we don't destroy it; we'll lose the battle before it has begun."

"Shit." Six says again. "You're right, Mog. This _thing _goes down. Come on, we have to hurry." She turns toward us. "We'll sneak upon them invisibly. I'll go steal a fighter. Marina, you deal with the Mogs while Adam destroys the device with an earthquake."

"Understood." Adam tells her. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"You got it, Six." I say. "Let's go."

We rush towards the forest between us and the warship. Six takes my hand and I reach out for Adam's. He's a little surprised by the gesture, but he takes it all the same. His hand is dry but cold, and I feel his pulse quicken with adrenaline. To my left, Six activates her invisibility and we quietly zip through the trees.

In front of us is a young Mog scout. He's tired looking, maybe half asleep. His blaster is astray, but there's a knife in his hand, jagged and wicked looking.

A few days ago, I would've killed him happily and relished it. It would've been an act of vengeance, a sacrifice for my memory of Eight. But now, as my icicle pierces through his chest, as he turns into dust before he says a word, I don't feel any joy. I simply did what I had to do.

The Mogs guarding the entrance don't notice us either. Six uses the knife she stole from the scout to stab one in the back, and throws it into another Mog's eye. My ice shards take out two more, and Adam slices with his broadsword. His victim doesn't even have time to turn to dust before his head flies off his shoulders.

Still invisible, Adam taps on the panel next to us. The doors to the hangar bay open.

"Go, Six!" I tell her. "We'll be fine!"

"The controls of a Mogadorian fighter is virtually similar to that of a skimmer." Adam adds. "You'll recognize them once you get in."

"Good luck, then." Six disappears into the shadows, while Adam and I dart around the warship. The entire thing really is massive; it could easily crush any Earth aircraft with a few blaster hits. Luckily, we haven't been spotted yet.

The vacuum, as Adam called it, is in sight. The technicians are heavily guarded by a dozen Mogadorian soldiers. Once they see us coming, every one of them fire their blasters and a hail of bullets fly towards us.

I do something that I've never done before; I reach out with Legacy, and imagine an impenetrable wall of ice hovering between us and the soldiers. The air itself seems to solidify, and the temperature drops; the blaster fire bounces off the wall of ice and hit the soldiers instead.

"How did you..." Adam starts, then decides against it. "Never mind. Just do your thing, and I'll try to destroy the machine."

I break the wall of ice and charge towards my enemies before they have finished reloading. An icicle forms in my hand and I stab a Mog to dust. Focusing on my Legacy again, I summon a ring of jagged ice shooting out at my enemies. Sure enough, the ice expands and cuts through the soldiers around me.

I hear a deafening blast, and summon my frozen wall again to shield me from the heat of the explosion. The seismic blast hits the device dead center, and turns it into a pile of scrap metal; what used to be the starboard is now a smoking crater on the surface of the warship.

"Awesome." I turn around and tell Adam.

_Except that he isn't there._

Panicked, I decide to run back to the hanger bay, thinking he must've retreated his steps to find Six. Before I even take a step, though, a Mog fighter swoops down and trains its sights on me, and starts to fire.

I dodge the bullets, cursing under my breath. The fighter fires another volley of bullets, and one grazes my arm. I shout out in pain, clutching my wound.

Six's fighter appears out of nowhere and blasts the enemy jet to ashes. It lands right next to me. "You okay?" She shouts over the noise of the engine.

"Where's Adam?" I ask. "Did you know where he went?"

"No." Six looks genuinely confused. "I thought he was with you."

I climb on board, and my feeling of dread intensifies.

"Six." I stammer, ashamed. "I think the Mogs took him."

* * *

**Thanks everyone who read Chapter 1 and favorited/followed/reviewed! Thanks so much for your support, we really appreciate it. Next chapter is going to have Mark and Adam as PoVs :D**

**Don't forget to follow and review, and f****eel free to include your speculations in your comments!**

**Numero Cinco + Arctic Blue**


	3. III - Return

_**Hey guys! Guess who, it's Cinco! I'm lonely now, but that doesn't mean that this fic dies! I will, however, until I find another partner, have to slow down the POV's so as to not overextend, as well as to flesh them out a fair bit. By that, I'm going to seperate the story into books, or parts, and what has been published so far, let's say, is the introduction to these books. Without further ado, BOOK ONE!**_

**Chapter 3: Return**

* * *

[Adam I - Numero Cinco]

As I awake there's nothing but darkness.

The darkness smells dank in itself… almost wet, but not quite. Overpowering the smell entirely, almost, instead is the smell of metal- that sharp, bright smelling scent that accompanies newly polished aluminum.

_Where am I?_

Stumbling around in the dark, I ram into the side of some metal object that caves slightly on impact, making a big _PANG_ noise as I hit it. "Ah!" I yelp, having to sit down to get my bearings.

I'm in some kind of… of a cell? It's nothing like I've heard of before, with its metal walls and absolute darkness, not even the blue glow of the hover fields we employed in West Virginia.

Strange.

AS I AWAKE, THERE'S NOTHING but darkness.

The darkness smells dank in itself… almost wet, but not quite. Overpowering the smell entirely, almost, instead is the smell of metal- that sharp, bright smelling scent that accompanies newly polished aluminum.

Where am I?

Stumbling around in the dark, I ram into the side of some metal object that caves slightly on impact, making a big PANG noise as I hit it. "Ah!" I yelp, having to sit down to get my bearings.

I'm in some kind of… of a cell? It's nothing like I've heard of before, with its metal walls and absolute darkness, not even the blue glow of the hover fields we employed in West Virginia.

Strange.

I try to think about what happened- The Sanctuary, the door to the bottom, and then seeing that ship… and the device that it held… I remember those from Ra's book, and from my own eyes during the First Great Expansion. I remember the pride I felt as it drifted lazily down mounted onto a warship - the Vacuum. I remember wanting to find the Vacuum, to destroy it with my legacy. To make Seven- Marina, I should say- and Six proud, wanting to display my loyalty once and for all, unquestionably. But… I don't remember what happened next. It's all black after that, and then… here. The blackness, once more.

I almost want to shout a hello to anyone watching… better yet, to quake the ground around us and bring the whole place crashing down. But I know- I know- that there's a smarter course of action. I can just find and destroy everyone in the complex. I mean… the ship, I suppose.

So I go with my first option. "Hello?" I shout, my voice amplified tenfold by whatever cell I'm in, wherever I am. "Can anybody hear me? I need to use the bathroom!"

Still no response.

"Seriously, it's been hours since I went to the bathroom. Somebody there?" Still nothing. I bang my arms around against the cold metal covering me and it almost dents. I'm taken aback for just a moment by my strength, but that gets interrupted.

"Adamus Sutekh, Son of Andrakkus, do you concede?" A voice from nowhere speaks harshly. It's in Mogadorian, so it sounds something like "Adamus Sutekh, who is Andrakkus, tuna in parachute?"

"Concede to what?" I inquire, mostly calm. Mostly. It's not like they can do anything to me as long as I have my legacy, anyway.

"Surrender," is all the voice offers.

"To whom?" I'm trying to drag this out as long as possible, make as much of a statement as possible.

Then a different voice overtakes the com. A female voice. "Phiri Dun-Ra," She remarks coyly.

Wait. Really? "Dun-Ra, huh? I figured you learned your lesson back at the battle. Guess not."

She scoffs. "Your overprotective Loric girlfriends are not with you now! Neither is that beast you call a pet! Where, exactly, does my lesson lie, Adamus Sutekh?"

"You don't remember?" It's my turn to scoff. I feel it down in my core, in my feet. My legacy is waiting, whenever's good for me.

"Oh, yes. You're the earthshaker that Setrakus Ra warned us about, the defector Mog, blah blah blah." she trails off. She knows?

"What?"

I hear a chuckle; chortle, almost. "Yes, Sutekh, we know. Of your special gift from the Lorics. We know, earthshaker, of your special power… but we are not on the ground, are we?"

That's when I hear it. In the distance, deep I the ground somewhere, the hum of an engine pierces its way to the surface. We're in the ship, and the ship is airborne! How could I've been so stupid?

I stomp the floor out of pure frustration, but all that happens is another fierce CLANG and another dent in the solid metal that I take no note of. I can still feel my legacy, ready… whenever we're on the ground again.

Phiri's outright hysteric now. There must be a camera trained on me somehow, because she knows what happened. "Adamus… the great earthshaker, Destroyer of Dulce? Where is your stolen Loric power now?"

I can't believe it. My people caught me at last. After all the running, all the fighting… I'm taken out while the Garde are in the vicinity? Six and Marina, are still here, aren't they? Where are you guys? I think in my mind. Then I realize. What if… what if they aren't trying me? It could happen. The Goodes and Four at least have some respect for me, but the only time I've known those two were the thoughts we shared on that Skimmer hop from Ashwood. What if they don't trust me? What if they believe that I just turned sides again?

Just then panels in the wall slide open. I'm struck in the face by the starkness of the light- some white light, some yellow, and yet more red lights blink in the distance. Two Scouts are there ready to grab me and take me away. To where? I have no idea.

I can't believe they only sent two scouts for me. Noting of the dents all around my cell from my beating- three in all- I stare down at my fists. I've never been strong before… Could I punch that hard? I suppose, if it's thin enough metal, but by judging on the thickness of the door- almost five inches perhaps- I'm clueless.

"Come now, young traitor. Dun-Ra has some business with you, she says," the one the right taunts.

"Yes, Earthshaker. Come now, and perhaps you'll live to see the sunlight again, perhaps to see your petty Loric Cause end at the hands of the Beloved Leader!" The second agrees, laughing with himself at my self-pity.

I have no choice.

They lead me out, into the blinding light; as my eyes adjust, I see where I am. It's some kind of control room, with monitors flayed out across the walls and shiny white tile staring up from below.

We curve around the corner, both their hands scraping against one of my arms each, their gently cut black and white nails and pale hands feeling undeniably cold against the tropical heat.

So are you just gonna let them take you, or… A voice says in the back of my head. I don't know where it comes from, but it has a point. What can I do, though? I'm powerless in the air.

Oh, just do something, Adam. Remember when you were trapped in that ravine? You found a way out then. And when you took down Ashwood and Dulce? You found a way out then, right? Think of something, stupid!

Well, I suppose. But those were different. Then I had One for support, or her Legacy. Now I have neither.

The voice does not respond any more.

We maneuver about in the ship, taking a spiraling metal grated staircase down a flight before taking another sharp turn, into a much darker room. This one has a single table and two chairs, one at each side.

At one of the chairs, obviously the more plush, lays a battered but alive Phiri Dun-Ra. She looks much the same as I saw her some time ago- What, you don't even remember? Jeez, dude- with her two tightly wound braids and her ever-so stern expression.

"Hello, Sutekh. Are you well?" She mock- inquires. I just study her as I plop down into the chair, the echo bouncing around the room before being absorbed by the plushness of her seat.

What a bitch! You should rip her head out. That'd be, like, totally okay- where are these thoughts coming from, even? I don't think those gruesome thoughts, at least, not usually.

"I'm fine! Never better. And yourself?"

She smirks. "I figured. I take it, my friends have treated you… well?" she flicks her wrist and the two scouts rush out of the room, back up the spiral stairs.

"Like I said, better than even my own mother."

If she was drinking anything, it would be all over me. She burst out laughing- What is it with these Mogs? Are they high or something?- and settles down before too long. I try to keep up my phony confidence for a little longer.

"Ah, your sister did tell stories about your infinite sense of humor, earthshaker!"

"Really?"

Her face almost does a flip from happy to stern as she leans in close to make her point. "Of course not, you traitorous half-wit. Your family hates you, your mother and sister alike."

I lean back from her breath, better than most Mogs, but still stinking of the artificial meat the soldiers are required to eat. "You know," I cough to make a point. "A breath mint would do you well."

Her features darken.

Ha! Take that, you ugly disgusting Mog bitch- I hear a voice from inside me say. For an instant, I'm puzzled. I don't really talk like that. What was I thinking?

She stands and exits the room in a haste, leaving me to my thoughts for too long.

I don't have much to think about, and yet, so much.

But she gently walks back in again before I can collect what it is that I have to think about.

She leans in close to whisper in my ear. "I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you, earthshaker... Just the way that so many of our vatborn and trueborn alike have died trying to escape your wrath."

I gulp.

She sneers.

"That's right, Adamus. Adam, right? To your new friends?"

"Yes…," My fake self-esteem is draining quick. I analyze the room for any way to escape- vents, windows, anything- but the only way in or out is through the door. And I'd have to repel Phiri to get to said door, and… I'm not so sure I can.

Oh, wimp. Sure you can. Just watch.

While I'm thinking, she draws a pocketknife. Holding it to my neck, she speaks softly, setting herself down on the table. "Tell me, where are the Garde? Where to they plan on moving next?"

I choke down my words. "Never will I tell the likes of you."

Yeah! That's the Adam I know! Stubbornly pushing yourself straight at death! Good going, bro!

The voice… As I feel the cold steel against my Adam's apple, the voice's elation feels like a comfort. Like an old friend I haven't seen for a very long time. Something I almost recognize… something that hides on the tip of my tongue, in the tips of my now-tingling fingers.

My silence does not please Phiri.

Without moving a lip, she slashes across the air, landing the blade right on the edge of my left index finger, slicing it off. "Tell me, damnit! Where are the Garde! What do they do next! What is their play!"

I can hardly think. Pain completely overwhelms me. Black blood spills in dribbles, then all at once out onto the otherwise clean table. I can feel the sweat roll down my face, yet I can't get myself to look at my left hand.

"I think that's enough of that," through my welling tears, I see a blonde figure step out from where it was hiding behind the door. Phiri doesn't acknowledge its existence.

"A stubborn little twat, aren't you?" What do you say, we … take another?"

I'm crying in pain. I can't think of anything but complying to her wishes. "No!"

She smirks once again. "That's all I ever wanted, Adam."

"Bitch, do something!" The figure in the doorway screams at me. My vision doesn't sharpen, but my ears tell me of a female voice come to rescue me. Dun-Ra still does not make any move towards her.

I take one hand and wipe my eyes clear to see who my supposed savior is, but I don't believe it. It must be a figment of my imagination or something, because my old friend stands in the doorway. Someone I did not think I would ever see again.

Number One. In the flesh.

"Yeah, hey, right!" She smiles the fakest smile I've ever seen, before turning back to staring down Phiri. In my bleakness I almost miss that her left hand is bleeding as well, the index finger missing from it, blood dribbling down onto the floor.

She wears the dirtiest jeans and sweater that I've ever seen, the sweater covered in mud and sweat and who knows what else. He hair is tied back in a ponytail, the likes of which I haven't seen before, but it's her. It's really her.

"One..," The word leaks out of my mouth, and Phiri follows my gaze to the door. But she sees nothing.

"What? One what?"

One nods at me. "You know what to do. I can tell."

And I do. The tingling in my fingertips grows so strong I fear they might vibrate straight off, but I control them just enough to raise one hand shakily into Dun-Ra's face.

"Do not ever hurt me, or my people, again, alright?" I choke through a cry. I flick my wrist up and skyward, and Phiri flies in the same direction. Telekinesis. I have telekinesis. She crashes through the ceiling, leaving a hole where she entered.

I grab my injured hand with my right, grasping at the place where the finger used to be.

"Follow me, dunce! I know the way!" One cries, charging right up to the stairwell doors that I somehow know she can't open.

I grasp them firmly and yank upwards, charging out. And to freedom.


	4. IV - Ambush

**Hey guys. Sorry for the late update. I know Cinco's told you that I left, but I'm back again (for now). I did experience some problems early on in the week, but they're all fixed now (I hope.) Anyways, enjoy the Mark chapter. I know it's kind of short, but I'm a little short on time and I wanted to post this as soon as I could. Thanks so much for your support (we've hit .5k views already :D) and every one of you that's subscribed/liked/reviewed. I can't stress how much they mean to us.**

**Enough talk. Welcome to the world of Mark James, the leader of the human resistance.**

**-Blue**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Ambush**

[Mark I - Arctic Blue]

"Mark." Sarah says, softly tapping on my shoulder. "You have to see this."

"See what?" We're still a couple of hours away from Atlanta, trying to reach my hacker buddy GUARD. I'm still a bit unnerved from that last encounter with Mogs back at the gas station. If it weren't for BK transforming into a beast, I don't even know what kind of deep shit we would be in by now.

The Chimaera is resting on Sarah's lap, while she's staring at the screen of my laptop intently, as if transfixed by its contents. BK turns around to stare at the screen, then barks softly.

"See what?" I repeat, then glance at the screen for a second. John Smith's in some kind of video, putting his hand on a sickly old man's face. As I watch, the light from his hand transfers to the skin of his patient, and the dark spots on the guy's cheek slowly recede and evaporate into thin air.

Then a news report pops out of nowhere and the video of John healing the man is replaced by a huge mother fucking warship landing on the streets of New York. The reporter is young and probably new to the job, because he obviously seems out of his depth. He keeps on stressing that it is not a prank and Earth has probably just been targeted by an advanced alien civilization. Well, they got that one right. I think to myself. Took them long enough.

Sarah's cell phone rings, and she picks it up on the first ring.

"John, thank God!" She exclaims, obviously relieved. I grit my teeth and keep on driving. I've made a truce with John Smith, and I know that he's one of the good guys, but it doesn't exactly make me happy when he talks corny stuff to my ex. "The Mogs are all over the news! Are you okay?"

John mutters something inaudible in that douchebag voice of his.

"John, I hope you know what you're doing." She says. Suddenly, a burst of static comes out of the radio; something's interfering with the connection. Probably the fact that a dozen of huge ass ships have probably landed on Earth.

Seriously, though, I'm not surprised that it's happened so early. Ever since I left Paradise, all clues pointed to a mass invasion of Earth happening just before the next UN convention. But I'm still nervous. A group of Mogs are one thing; BK could take care of them easily, and even if he wasn't there I could off a bunch of them if I take them by surprise. What if we bump into a warship, though?

That's not exactly a cheerful thought, so I try to pay attention to my driving.

"I'm looking at it now," Sarah continues. "John, it's—you're amazing. But I'm a sucker for handsome aliens performing miracles."

I snort. Bad enough that John was sprouting out lines from old love movies from the eighties. Now my ex does it too. To my right, Sarah glares at me, but doesn't utter a word.

"We can definitely use this," She saves the video on my laptop, and drags it through a video compressing software."What are you going to do now, though? That ship looks huge."

John mutters something again.

"What do you mean, John? What's the plan?" She waits for his response. "Well, good luck. Go kill some Mogs for me."

"So what's the plan? Make out with some aliens?" I jest.

"Mark!" She complains. "Stop it."

"No, seriously. John's headed towards some large ass shit - I mean ship; a bunch of the Lorics aren't even with him; one's a traitor, and one's captured. Doesn't sound like a good plan to me."

"He'll kick their asses." Though she doesn't sound too convinced. "Worry about what we have to do. Should I send the video to your buddy?"

"Sure." I tell her. "He'll probably pee his pants after seeing footage this good." I grip the wheel tightly. "Now that the Mogs have invaded, the people want to know the truth, and we'll be the first ones to provide it. No more lies from the government."

"I have a feeling that They Walk Among Us is going to have a lot more hits in the next few days." Sarah muses.

"Tell GUARD to get his shit together and come out of his basement, then."

"Wonder what he looks like." Sarah says as she transfers my message and the video to the blog.

"Probably some old, fat nerd." She grins and strokes BK's fur.

"By the way, where did that line come from?" I add. "The one about handsome miraculous aliens. Pretty sure I didn't get that kind of treatment when you were still my girlfriend."

She punches me on the arm, laughing. "Well, you're the tough guy, aren't you? I thought tough guys didn't need to be reminded that they're miraculous and handsome."

"Hey," I protest. "Since John could technically kick my ass with both hands tied behind his back, wouldn't he be the tough guy?"

"Shut up, Mark."

* * *

"The good news is that no Mog warships have been sighted in Atlanta." Sarah tells me.

"Well, what's the bad news?"

"A bunch of Mogs came earlier today. Defeated their entire police force. Now they've locked everyone under curfew. Anyone unauthorized walking on the streets will be shot on sight."

"Shit." I was hoping that Atlanta would be completely Mog-free, so we could set up our human resistance camp. Guess not. I imagine Setrakus Ra's ugly face (Sarah's told me what he looks like) laughing at me: "Wishful thinking, NOOB!"

The idea is so disturbing I almost throw up.

"Well, look on the bright side. If they try to come at us with their blasters, BK will chop them into pieces before they even pull the trigger." She says.

BK wags his tail in agreement.

"All right, then. Give me his address."

Five minutes later, we're parked straight outside of a four story mansion. Luckily, we haven't met any Mog soldiers yet. I've sent a message to GUARD telling him that we're here, but he hasn't replied.

"He's pretty stinking rich." I note.

"Hey, don't complain. I seriously thought that we were going to live in a conspiracy RV."

"Oh, well. Hey, BK, can you wait here a sec?" I tell the Chimaera. "We don't want to scare him. At least, not yet." BK barks something in dogspeak, which I guess could either mean: "Sure thing, dude. I'll stay here and be a good beagle" or "fucking get away from my friend's girl". I hope it's the former.

I ring the doorbell, and wait for GUARD to appear. Silence.

"Are you sure that he's home?" Sarah asks me. "He could be at work or something."

"I don't think he has a job" is my reply.

Then I hear a shuffling sound, like someone's running down the stairs. The door opens, and GUARD comes out.

He's exactly like I pictured. Overweight, glasses on his face, with an unshaven beard. He's probably in his late thirties, and sweating profusely, like he's terrified of us. I know I expected something like this, but I'm still disappointed. I was hoping that he'd be some buff guy in his twenties or something.

"Hey." Sarah greets him cheerfully. "I'm Sarah, and this is Mark. You're the guy on the website?"

"Yes. Yes." He nods frantically, almost shaking off his glasses. "Jolly Roger, right? Please, come in."

We walk inside; the interior of the mansion is even more impressive than the exterior. The marble floors are decorated elaborately with a multitude of patterns, the living room is huge and ornate paintings cover the walls.

I whistle, taking it all in. "Nice place, dude."

He nods again. "Please. Follow me." GUARD walks into a room on the left.

I frown. Something about his behavior seems suspicious. The way he's looking at us, for example. It's like we're terrible monsters that could eat him alive at any minute. Beside me, Sarah seems to have no qualms and follows GUARD straight into the room.

_Dude, you're paranoid. _I tell myself, and walk after Sarah.

The room is pristine white, voluminous, and covered with large screens and computers of every brand. "Take a seat." GUARD tells us, and sits down on an office chair. Sarah and I sit on the sofa.

I take a look around the room again. I'm guessing this is where GUARD does all his stuff. About half of the monitors are flashing, and showing Mog warship movements all across the world. I see two in Canada, three in Europe, four in Asia, and one in Africa and Australia.

"So." I clear my throat. "Uh, I guess we'll have to go to work. We have camera footage of a Loric healing a bunch of guys on our laptop, and one of a warship landing in New York."

GUARD nods, but he doesn't seem particularly interested. Instead, he's staring outside the door, like he's waiting for something.

"So, can you help us?" Sarah asks, cautiously. "I mean, I know it's risky, but..."

GUARD shakes his head. "I'm sorry about this, guys. The Mogs have my family, and they've threatened to kill them if I don't comply to their orders." As soon as he says these words, I hear a familiar sound, like a Mogadorian rifle cocking behind me.

I turn around and find myself staring at a Mog.

"Mark James." The Mog hisses. "And Sarah Hart. The Beloved Leader told us about your arrival." He waves his hand, and four more Mogs, all carrying blasters, rush into the room.

_Shit._ I should've expected this. I want to whistle for BK, but something tells me that the Mogs have prepared for that possibility. _I never should have left him back at the car, _I realize.

"Put your hands above your heads." The Mog tells us. "Or we'll shoot." His goons search our pockets for arms, and when they don't find any, their leader laughs. "You didn't bring anything to defend yourselves? Humans." he snorts. "Trusting, weak, and stupid."

"You promised to let my family go if I turned them in." GUARD mumbles. "Let my family go, please."

"Your family?" The Mog laughs again. "You mean those idiots? They're dead, of course! They've been dead for weeks!"

GUARD stares at him, unbelieving. "But... you promised..."

"Shut him up." The Mog says, and one soldier kicks him to the floor. Another cocks his blaster rifle. I avert my eyes as GUARD's scream is quickly replaced by the sound of blaster fire and sizzling flesh.

"So much for him." My captor turns from the corpse to his soldiers. "Take them to the basement." He points at us. "We'll execute them publicly, with the other prisoner. We'll want the whole world to watch them die."

"Fuck you." I retort. "Fuck you and your leader and all of your kind."

The Mog frowns. "You, human, will need to be taught a lesson." He lunges forward and I crumple to the ground, unconscious, as the butt of his rifle connects with the back of my head.


	5. V - Airborne

**Hey, guys, it's Blue again. I know this is technically Cinco's chapter, but I'm writing an A/N to address something. I know that our chapters have become really disorganized: the original idea was to have a cycle of (John-Ella-Five-Marina-Adam-Mark), and then start from John whenever we got to Mark. But, as you may have noticed, this chapter is an Adam chapter: mainly because we like Adam so much that we felt like we had to finish the scene with his escape with One.**

**What's more confusing, though: some chapters contain both of our PoVs, while others contain only one. This was because we initially decided on having 2 PoVs per chapter, but since I was experiencing some issues with my computer, I had to post 3 days later than the expected time. After you guys have a chance to read this, we'll separate chapters 1 and 2 into four chapters, so each PoV gets a chapter.**

**Anyways, you probably don't want to read my rambling introduction. So without further ado, we present you our second Adam chapter - AIRBORNE.**

**-Blue**

**Chapter 5: Airborne**

* * *

[Adam II - Numero Cinco]

WE RUSH UP THE STAIRS, FEET BANGING AGAINST THE METAL GRATES. Well, my feet. One is silent as she leads, somehow knowing exactly where to go. I don't question it, I just follow her shimmering blonde hair in the light of the lamps…

_Is this really a time to be checking me out, bro?_ Her voice appears in my head, without her even turning around. "Hey, sorry. I just noticed it, that's all."

_Sure_. As we reach the top of the stairs, she turns around to me and grins. "Remember, telekinesis is simple. It's just grab the Mog bitches and, you know, _give them a shake up_."

_Yeah. Something like that._

"You've got this. You've made it out of harder shit before, _amirite_?" I'm not sure if her teeth could be whiter, but that doesn't matter. I shake it off and place my good hand on the door handle, wincing slightly. My left finger still bleeds, but it's mostly numb now; I suppose that's a good thing.

_Oh, don't be a weeny_.

Thanks a lot, One. Great help.

_No problem_.

Yeah. Enough of that. I hesitate for a split second while I gather my thoughts. And then the door is flung open.

There's more Mogs than I expected. Maybe they heard me throw Phiri, maybe they just _knew_ that I'd escape, like they always do. Either way.

My telekinesis is shaky as I grab ahold of the first clump of them by the door and slam them into a wall. The _crunch _they all make doesn't bother me as much as it should. All around, the soldiers turn to me, some pulling weapons; blasters, cannons, one even has a gleaming Soul Sword - _my_ sword, the one I got from my father back in Ashwood. I'm expecting a _real_ fight.

I reach out with my mind and take hold of the nearest blaster. Yanking it skywards, it impacts the soldier's skull and knocks him out _clean_. One whoops beside me.

The blaster comes pulling towards us when I lower my hand to my chest, its flight path across the room unblocked. As it lands in my hands, I spin it immediately and squeeze off a shot at the ceiling, collapsing some of the metal onto a group of them.

One of them manages to stay upright, however, and fires back. He hits me right in the leg and I trip and crash to the floor, but I use my momentum and mind to pull him down with me from across the room. One sneers and cheers as she witnesses it, though I can see a grimace through it. I don't have the time to wonder why. In the corner of my tunnel vision I see that my pant leg caught fire with the impact of his projectile, and it starts to smoke and pick up steam as I continue to will onwards.

The soldiers and technicians I crashed the roof on start to climb up, to try to fire back even. But I can't let them. I grab ahold of one of them and throw him so hard he crashes straight through the wall; another group tries to get up and charge me, but I yank their blasters away. Chucking two, I use the third to smack them all across the top of the head. Hopefully cracking at least a _few_ skulls.

_They deserve this. They've tried to kill you so many times. They'll see your new people dead, all eight of them buried in the ground and forgotten! They'll kill you!_ Without another thought I toss the rest of the Mogs, still in a pile, aside, like a broom with dust. "You can't touch me!" I scream at them as they try to turn around at me.

I level the gun and try to get the remaining Mogs, firing three glowing red shots at them before they retreat down a hallway and into the belly of the ship somewhere. No doubt for reinforcements. _Shit_.

I collapse from my halfway-upright position on the floor, glowering at my calf. My pant leg is pretty much out now, by some Loric miracle, but that doesn't mean it still hurts like a mother…

I groan accidentally, reaching down to clutch at it, somehow keep it from hurting. Down in the distance, shadows dance against the walls and I hear boots on metal. _Now. Now. Do something now._

I throw my head back, gritting my teeth. "One… this might be it."

"Please," She mumbles through gritted teeth, but her look is of concern for once in the fight. She jogs over to peer down the hallway and jumps back. "Oh, _fuck this._ They're here! Get up!"

I cry louder this time, "I don't think I can! Ahh!"

Without saying a word she turns around and runs to me, disappearing in the instant she comes within a foot. I see a white light form over by where she was standing, and then…

Then I get up. I'm not moving my body on my own, that much I know. I'm just a witness, from outside somewhere as I hear One's thoughts inside my head. _Alright, bucko. If you won't do it- I will_.

How is that even possible? I know, after all that's happened I _really _shouldn't question this, just…

_Oh, just shut up and watch_, One mutters from somewhere inside my head.

_Can't wait to see the show_, I snark at her.

_Funny guy, eh_. She – I – jump up, completely ignoring the gnawing in my calf, and sprint at the end of the room like a jet. Right around the corner, the soldiers are readying an assault plan on my position, and don't even see me coming as I high jump kick into them from off the side of the metal wall. My foot imbeds itself into one of their skulls, ripping around in midair and crashing into another one.

I jump up and look around. Two more of them try and escape down the hallway, but One is on them in an instant, taking one flying leap across the length of the floor and tackling the first to the ground, throwing the other out a plate glass window weighted above a row of monitors displaying maps and the sort.

The one I've pinned down struggles to reach up but my hand stops him, clutching his throat and pressing into the ground until it _pops_.

_Oh Ra, why the hell did you do that!_

_Just go with it_. Even her thoughts are ragged and out of breath, but I don't question her. Not at all. She picks my body up and jogs over to where I was being held, a large steel door in the side of the chamber, still ajar.

One looks around, frantic. There's a corridor that leads somewhere to the far left of our field of vision and she takes it, briskly rushing through it and out the other side.

More Mogadorians wait for us there, obviously an ambush. They fire off a whole round from the five of them, but One jumps up high and grabs ahold of something on the ceiling, using our motion to pivot around and fly at the group with another jump-kick. She pulls the same motion before, embedding her foot and beating another with the one near-disembodied skull before they both collapse into a heap of dust.

Blaster still in hand, she turns on a heel and shoots with perfect accuracy, using our telekinesis to speed the three projectiles to altogether insane speeds before they ram into the Mogs. They themselves fly into and through the bulkhead.

_Bad move!_ _Fuck! _One screams inside my brain, just as it becomes evident that the particular wall she _used_ was the outer layer of the ship. She runs over to it and looks down, into the jungle below…

Wait. Except there isn't a jungle below. It's some kind of mountain range, the white-capped peaks staring back at us as the pressure difference tries to pull us out through our creepily man-shaped hole.

I can see her thoughts, her processes… as she stares down, she's calculating if we could survive the jump, if she could float us down with my TK, if she could cushion the fall with some kind of earth-ripple from our earthquake legacy, all of the above.

_Wait! The vacuum!_

She speaks through my mouth this time, instead of our awkwardly one sided telepathy. "Oh shit, you're right!" She contemplates it, however. "But, there have to be more Mogs on she ship somewhere. They'll be coming any second, and you know it as well as I do," Her words come out in my voice, such a strange occurrence that I hardly even notice while we try to puzzle it out.

_Yeah, but_… _We can hold them off, see where they're going, try to… I dunno, blow up the ship?_

_How do you propose we do that, Adam hon? _Her biting, sarcastic tone surprises me more than it should. I know she can tell, too, because the next time she speaks she's softer. _I don't think I can. Your calf is killing me and worse… I just don't know_.

How could we even? This isn't like a base on the ground, where I could easily destroy it with my legacy. Or- my earthquake legacy, I should say.

She's still breathing hard, rasping though her thoughts. She looks longingly at the ground before turning on a heel and rushing back to one of the monitors, trying to turn it on. _Here, let me_. I don't know how I do it, but I somehow push her conscientiousness to the side and take control.

The pain is like _fire_ as I look through the files, looking for anything that will tell me what it is they're doing here. _Well, use the vacuum, but what else_? Wait. Why would they want to use it? If it is indeed Ra's plan to… to take over the planet, to rule over it, why would he want to suck it of its resources?

Then it hits me. He doesn't. He just doesn't. I was wondering why the vacuum looked so antique when we first saw it, down in the ground, but I simply didn't judge it all too much. Now.. He just used it as a decoy. They _knew_ I would be on the ground there and recognize it, because of Phiri's Intel, and I would see it and panic and try to warn them.

And we would do what… attack the ship? That would be our obvious play. So why would they want to _force_ us into attacking them? The combination of Six's storm and Seven's freeze could level it in minutes, so… why would they?

Wait…

It was mysterious, when it happened before…

When I was on the ground, when I saw those cloaked figures coming for me, firing all around me but never directly at me.

_It was me they wanted_.

I was their target. They wanted to provoke an attack, so that we would hopefully split up and they could find and capture me. So that I could be tortured into telling them the Garde's plans.

_Well, that worked extremely well._

One intervened.

I step away from the computer, politely shutting it down in the process. Tossing a lazy glance over my shoulder to make sure that there's still no one trying to get into the room, I see the gleam of a sword laying where the Mogs awaited me. It shines in the light of the room, as if trying to grab my attention. _My sword!_ The soldier who had it must've retreated here before getting destroyed.

I hobble to it and pick it up, dropping the blaster as I bend. Feeling its weight in my hands, seeing its light resonate over my arm- just where it should be. _What was that I promised again? It will never again be used against the Loric?_

_Four never has to know_, One thinks to me.

_Please, he knows everything_. I'm oddly cool after the battle, calm, almost. The soldiers come no more; their morale shattered by One's display of martial superiority that bashed half of their skulls. I bet the rest are hiding somewhere in the bowels of the ship.

Still trying to give my leg leeway, I trip my way over to the hole in the wall. It tries to pull me out through its pressure imbalance, but I grab a handhold in the form of some kind of shelf and grip it as strongly as I can; which turns out to be more than a little, because my grip almost rips the shelf off of the wall. _What's happening to me? Telekinesis? The strength of an unmatched warrior?_

_I'll explain it later_.

_Oh, come on._

_It's not time yet, bro. Besides, we've got bigger fish to fry_. I know she means the jump I fully intend to take.

_Can you get us down?_ I ask One.

_Yep. I can float us, I can make a cushion… You know. You heard._

Well, there you go. I feel the warmth and see light shining from a random point in the room where I guess she was watching, hidden. And just like that, I'm a passenger again.

Skydiving is something I've never personally done. It's not something One's done either, and yet she is _perfectly _happy to do it, taking a flying leap outwards before she can think twice about it. She makes a funny shape to fit through the jigsaw puzzle-like shape in the wall, and then we're off.

The air rushes up past me, sticking all my loose clothes tight to my body, my long hair rippling backwards like it does in movies when the protagonist rides into battle on his high horse. We weren't that high to begin with, so the drop is short and before I can count to ten One has started to catch herself- myself- and begins lowering me down to the ground as easily as possible.

As we impact with an _umph_, I sudden shift in my core leaves me feeling cold and dry and…. I feel that I can control my limbs again… somehow. I push myself up, grunting slightly under my breath as I feel the sharp pang in my lower leg. But I ignore it, for the most part.

We're in the mountains somewhere; that much is certain. There's a town I can see in a valley a few miles to the… some direction, I'm not sure which.

"That's west, excuse you," One saunters up from behind me somewhere, looking beat after our fight. She still smiles, though.

"Fine. The town to the west, are you happy?"

"Always and never, dude. Always and never."

"Gee, thanks."

She shakes her head. "It's not you! It's just… the situation," I can see her thoughts like I know she can see mine, and I can see how carefully she chooses her words here.

I thrust my hands into my pockets, ignoring the constant pain in my index finger for just a moment to take in the scenery. It couldn't be more beautiful here; The rolling hills turning into mountains behind us somewhere, capping their snowy caps far away in the distance. The town to the _west_ and the small stream that runs between here and there, all picturesque.

And of course, there's the warship. From my vantage point, it's not as big as it was when I first saw it It hovers on some kind of levitation/jet engine combination, little streams of heated air making the space below it heat up and vibrate slightly. It's maybe as big as a medium-sized house, the fake Vacuum retracted to the side of the structure.

It's small enough, now that I think about it, that I might have killed its entire crew. I always expected more soldiers to come swarming from somewhere, always framed my thoughts around it being manned by hundreds. Just… I suppose it's not quite so.

I pull my left hand out of my pocket and gaze at it questioningly; my finger is indeed gone. I should have kept it, maybe Seven or John could have healed it back on or something.

_But then again, it is a battle scar of sorts_. That and the welt on my leg… I'm just ripe for scars today.

One walks up and in front of me and starts down the mountain, headed towards the stream and eventually, the town. "Yeah, yeah, scars. Scars are sexy, but you know what's sexier? Being _a-live_ for a little longer. Right?"

I sigh and nod, mostly just glad she's back after so long. "Yup. _A-live_."

I follow her downwards, watching the rocks below my feet, watching the sunset, watching her, watching the town. I'm not sure if it could be more perfect here.

Too bad I know it will never stay that way.


	6. VI - Revelations (H)

_**A/N**_

_**Hey guys! Cinco here. This new chapter is something of an experiment; it was Blue's idea- when presenting the idea to me, he called it a "Hybrid"- once every six or seven chapters, we include on giant chapter that encompasses updates on all the open POV's- but each one is somewhat shorter than usual, for space reasons. **_

_**Now in its debut, it does not get the honor of having every POV- Adam's was so long that it was taken and given its own chapter a few days ago. All of you guys' favorite characters, besides those two, are back today, however! John, Five, Ella, Mar and Mark- all with the stories that we take pride in.**_

_**As always, please remember to review! Tell us what we're doing wrong, tell us what we're doing right, tell us that we're awesome people- we'll take all of it. Thanks again- readers are the life of any story.**_

_**-Cinco**_

* * *

**Chapter 6: Revelations**

[Seven- Blue]

"How could you have lost him?" Six asks, for what seems like the millionth time.

"I don't know." I tell her, exasperatedly. "He was right there, creating an earthquake. When the vacuum broke, I turned around for a second to shield myself from the explosion, and he was gone when I looked back."

We're trailing the huge warship in our jet. We need Adam for this war; if he's dead, then we'll have lost a valuable ally. At first, we almost got blown to pieces by the plasma cannons on the warship; they must've been alerted to our presence. Then Six came up with this absolutely ingenious idea of putting her hand on the jet so it stays invisible. For some reason, doing so also made it undetectable to the warship's radar, because it's been ignoring us for the rest of the ship.

As for Adam, we have absolutely no idea how we're going to save him. Getting close to the ship then boarding it is not an option; as soon as Six leaves the jet, we'll be blasted out of the sky. I proposed building a bridge of ice to reach the warship and save Adam on my own, but without Six's invisibility there's no way I'll sneak past a shipload of Mogs.

So we've decided on following the ship until it lands. Which isn't even a good plan; we're running out of fuel, very, very, fast. At this rate, we have exactly enough fuel for two hours of flight to save Adam, and five to get to New York. Six got us a sustenance cube from my Chest, so we aren't that hungry, but both of us are exhausted.

"Are you sure he didn't, like, suddenly switch sides or something? I mean, what if he's back with his buddies and they're trying to hunt us down?" Six asks me.

"What, after he killed his father and about a hundred dozen of his kind? Forget it." I reply. "Most likely he's being interrogated by that Phiri bitch." I shudder with disgust. "I didn't even know they had female Mogs."

"Well, honestly they don't look much better than the male ones." Six says, a smirk on her face. "Trust me, Marina. Adam will be fine. He'll probably kick Phiri's ass and steal a fighter from the hangar bay in no time."

"I hope so." I mutter. Sure, Adam's a Mog, but over these days I've come to realize that he's a good guy, not at all like the rest of his kind. I wonder what One's told him to turn him to our side. Probably something very convincing.

"Shit!" Six shouts, pointing ahead with her free hand. "Am I hallucinating, or is that a person?" I follow the direction that she's pointing at, and see a figure fly out of the ship at what seems like an impossible velocity. I squint and realize that it's Phiri Dun-Ra, the Mog that almost killed us last time. She does some kind of backflip while airborne, and deploys a black parachute. Her descent is slowed so much it seems like she's stopped falling completely.

"What the hell is she doing?" Six muses. "Should I shoot her?" Her finger lingers over the button.

"Don't." I say sharply. "We don't know if this is a trap or not. Maybe the Mogs can track us with a device if we fire. Besides, she's much more useful alive."

"You're right." She nods. "We don't want to be blown apart at this altitude. But why would she jump off in," she glances at the jet's radar, "the middle of Guatemala? Is this some place special? Maybe a Mog base?"

I shrug. "Whatever her reason is, we're following her." Six pushes a few buttons and the jet slowly dips forward.

Before we get close to Phiri, though, I hear a knock outside the fighter's door. A bald eagle is pushing against the glass, trying to get in. "Dust!" I shout, surprised. He must've escaped from the warship. Which must mean that Adam has, too. "Six, open the door."

"Can't." Six tells me. "You'll be sucked out of the ship. Dust'll have to come in through the pipes." I point to under the ship, and mimic squeezing in. Dust seems to understand and turns in to a hummingbird, then disappears from sight. A few seconds later, he comes out of the vent to my right, then seems to faint in midair. I catch him with my hands, and see that he's terribly wounded. Three large scars run from his cheek to his tail.

"What have they done to you?" I whisper, and set on healing him. Dust coos in gratitude, and gently flutters his wings.

"I wish we had John here." Six remarks. "Then we'll know from Dust where Adam went."

That's when a huge piece of the starboard explodes, and a small figure jumps out of the hole, without a parachute.

I don't have to look to know that it's Adam.

* * *

[Five- Cinco]

Beside me, Nine stirs.

He coughs at first, just a light little thing, but I know he's coming to. I feel the inside of my eye socket, where the metal ball bearing still is, and focus on it. Almost like clenching a muscle, I think hard into it and feel my skin turn pasty and smooth.

Externa. It's magic.

He coughs again. More like gasps, really, and I realize that he might be swallowing the water unintentionally. Without getting any closer to him, I wave a hand at the handle and the water shuts off with a start. The toilet still spurts around the room making tiny little rainbows along the very edges of my vision.

"Uh… hey?" I mutter in his general direction.

He coughs more. Gasps more.

"Hello? Nine?"

"W-where.." he gets off before sputtering again under the weight of the mound of cloth.

"Motel. Pittsburgh. Things got pretty bad back in New York…" I trail off.

"UHhh…" He moans. "What is thing?"

"Huh?"

"It's like a fuckin' elephant… what the hell?"

"Yeah."

"You… Five?!" He's on his feet in an instant, throwing what little I had buried him in into the wall. The comforter almost blows up like a water balloon as it slaps against the tiles. He wipes his mouth clean from all the water and blood… Where's he bleeding from, again?

"What do you want with me?" he grunts.

"Nothing."

He stares soullessly into my eyes. "Yes, you do. You want to bring me back to your glorious leader, don't you!"

I wave my hands out in front of me. "No! No, it's not like that at all!"

"What is it, then!" He screams, the mirror breaking against my back.

"I-I… I don't know what I want, but it's not with Ra, whatever it is!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Metal Boy?"

"It means," I sigh loudly at last. "I'm on your side. For now."

He charges me, getting up and close to my face. "And I'm just supposed to believe you? Again?"

"Yup."

"Why?

I think this over in my head, turning it like a pig roasting over a fire for just a moment. "Because, if I wanted to kill you.. I would've done it already, you cunt."

He's taken aback by my logic.

"Yup. I could've fucked you up nine ways to Sunday while you took your beauty nap, but yet here you stand."

He stands down. A bit. A deep look of… do I see concentration? Yeah. A deep look of concentration takes over his face for a second, his brow furrowing for a second or two as he breaks my gaze and looks up into the shattered mirror behind me. Then he relaxes and his eyes come back to mine.

"You…"

"Me…," I grin at him. "Besides. Ra hates me now anyway. See these," I motion to the scratches all over my head. "Ra gave them to me before he threw me out of his flagship."

"Huh. Sounds like you two just hit a rough spot."

"Something like that."

He huffs into my face again and I smell his breath, his gnarly breath. Finally, he speaks again. "Fine. We'll do it your way, Hobbit-boy. We'll do it your way for now. Until I can find my real friends again."

"That sounds fair."

"I don't care what you think is fair," He remarks, striding out of the bathroom with his pride intact.

This is gonna be fun.

* * *

[Ten- Blue]

Note to those aspiring hybrid-Mog-slash-Loric-Elder assassin's out there: it's tedious work.

Necreria bounces off my bedroom wall again. I groan. What am I doing wrong? In the movies, they made it seem so easy to throw a knife so that the pointy end hits your target first. In reality, just making sure that you don't cut yourself is a bitch.

I've learned that the hard way, when my first attempt at knife-throwing didn't work out so well. I managed to stab myself on the foot, and my howls brought the nearest Mog over to investigate. I managed to hide my foot behind my bedcovers and look as innocent and harmless as a little girl could be with a knife sticking out of her little toe.

It doesn't matter that Necreria is probably the coolest and sharpest weapon that I've ever gotten to use. It doesn't matter that the walls are probably made from the softest materials ever. It doesn't matter that my Dreynen works perfectly with my weapon. _Nope. I just have to suck at knife throwing_. I do always enjoy summoning Necreria (I named my dagger after the Loric metal) into my hands, though. I just have to think about it, and boom! It's there. I can't help but think about the endless possibilities this provides. I could trick a Mog into thinking that I'm weaponless, and then stab him while he's all smug and confident. Yep. _Definitely going to try that. _I throw Necreria will all my strength hoping that I'd be lucky for once and hit the wall with the edge, but it bounces off again. Frustrated, I summon it back to my hand.

Combat training isn't the only part of my schedule as an assassin. There's also finding the exact time, location, and method of my assassination. I've managed to take note of the exact time of shifts of my bedroom guards. One is younger than the others, maybe only sixteen or so, and is always late. There's almost a five minute delay after the previous guard leaves and before he arrives on duty; more than enough for me to escape without being detected. Necreria will be my weapon, of course. I haven't decided on whether I'm going to stab him with it or throw it into his face. With my current skills, though, I'm thinking that stabbing is the better option. I try to add some sort of spin to my throw, but all I manage to do is create a large dent in the ceiling. Yeah. Definitely stabbing.

But the most annoying thing isn't even not being able to throw a knife properly. It's the fact that I don't know where Setrakus Ra sleeps. _Maybe he doesn't sleep._ I think to myself. _Maybe he's constantly awake._ In that case, maybe I could drug him. Pretend that I'm wounded during knife training, get myself into the apothecary, then sneak out with the stuff they gave me to knock me out the first time they brought me aboard. I'll dilute it so that it's not too strong. So that it'd take a few minutes before he sleeps. Then I could escort him back to his room: during his weakened state, he'd definitely tell me where it is. And after that it's just a matter of time before…

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden burst of static in my mind.

_Ella? Ella? Are you there? _Nine's voice calls out to me.

_Nine!_ I think, surprised. _I'm here! I'm on the New York warship!_

_Good_. He thinks. _I'm glad you're safe. _There's a pause before he speaks again. _Ella… Five has me. I don't know what he plans to do with me. He's saying that he just wants to work together and shit, but I don't trust him._

So Five has him. That's not exactly great news. I remember the lunatic that tried to help me escape from the ship. Something about him was broken. It's like he didn't want to fight anymore.

_Be careful, Nine. Five has his own agenda. He's only looking out for himself. I don't think that he's going to bring you back to the Mogs, but if you provoke him… _I don't finish my sentence. The last time Nine angered Five, the traitor killed Eight, stabbing him through the chest.

_I got it, Ella. How are things up there? Is Setrakus Ra torturing you? Is everything fine?_

_For now, at least. _I tell him. _Setrakus Ra is trying to persuade me to join his side, as usual, but I'm killing him with the first chance I get._

_That's my girl. _Nine thinks, laughing. _All right. Take care, Ella. I have a feeling that Setrakus Ra is going to be too dead to fight us by the time you're done with him._

_You bet._ I allow myself a smile before our connection breaks. _I'm not alone anymore. Nine's with me, and so is the rest of the Garde._

I spin my knife in my hands, and throw it, watching as it flies gracefully to the opposite wall. The dagger's edge slices through the wall like it's made out of cheese, and sticks there.

The smile on my face turns into a grin.

* * *

[John- Cinco]

We charged across the city that day, and retreated to the NYPD station in Upper Manhattan. The Mogadorian scouts took over an hour to locate us after our hasty retreat, by which time more and more survivors of the first wave were pouring into the office. I laid destroyed cars in a wall around the new compound, welding them together with my Lumen as the people just kept coming. When they first scout-ran tank found us we numbered more than a thousand hiding within the walls.

Alliser and his deputies, Brice Pontetheux, a recent immigrant from Paris who was just starting to prove his worth, and Connor Hughes, himself a New Yorker for his whole life, took a hundred men to head the scouts off. Between them and their fire and me and _mine_, the insurgents were dispatched with only minor casualties.

And here I am. Sentry duty. Just my luck- It was glorified sentry duty, out here patrolling my own makeshift car-wall. Of course there were others out here with me, silently observing the road in all directions, but everyone knew if the Mogadorians actually ever launch their inevitable attack that I'm the only one who can hold my own, who can hold their own as well.

Well, except Sam. I'm not sure how I should feel about him- his strength is near half of mine and he suddenly and inexplicably has telekinetic powers. He's asleep up at the top of the tower- his excitement got the best of him. I can't help but wonder how it came to happen- what exactly are Marina and Six doing at Calakmul? I'm sure it is related to that- that's one fact I can't deny.

Either way, I'll ask him about it when he wakes. I'm sure he'll be more ready to think about it by then.

Alliser and Hughes, along with all of the other men, were resting inside the building, strategizing. When they sent Pontetheux out to keep us company he had brought a walkie-talkie that Alliser had on his person at all times, and I talked with him on and off throughout the day. Earlier, around Two PM, they had deployed three drones from the roof, sending them in three directions looking for survivors.

They found some, just like I said they would. There's twenty-five million people in this city _somewhere_- just not here, where the ship that still hangs in the distance first struck. The drone we sent north found almost a hundred refugees from a local high school running along the streets, under the high-rise. More people were seen, still cowering in their apartments. There was nothing we could do for them, though.

"Smith, come in," Alliser barks from the walkie-talkie, his voice as gruff as ever through the static.

I pick it up lazily and bring it to my ear, watching an American flag blowing softly in the breeze as I do. It hangs off of a Pizza Hut on the corner, gently swaying, without a care in the world. "Yes?"

"Drones have picked up something to the west. Watch your back, looks like a lot of people. Ten cars and some peds, we saw," he radios and I nod. He didn't say that they were Mogs, specifically the pedestrians- so that leads me to believe that they're actually some patrol of survivors, and a disciplined one at that.

I turn around, facing to the west of the building, over the car wall. Their tires and underbellies face me, a maze of pipe works and engine parts. The drone buzzes in the bizarre silence that has cloaked the city under siege all day, lifting itself up from beneath the tops of the buildings and turning our way.

"Not far now, Smith. My boy says they're UN. We can see the flags on their lead car from here."

Walkie-Talkie still clutched in my hand, I respond again, "Gotcha. Ten cars you say?"

"Ten cars. Not difficult, right?"

I shake my head even though he can't see it. "If they're hostile- no. But I'd assume not, since they're UN, presumably. Besides, why would they fight us? We all have bigger fish to fry…," I say the last sentence through gritted teeth, getting somewhat pissed that the notion that they would fire at us. I let is slide as their lead car turns the corner.

Obviously it's the UN- that's what I see. Their lead car is a Cadillac, clad in black with darkened windows and a silver hood-ornament with the UN symbol carved into it; their light blue flag flies on each corner of the car.

It rounds the corner and keeps coming, even seeing me standing there on the wall. I jump down, making sure to shake the earth a little as I land, and look up to them, letting my hands glow just a little bit. Just as a warning.

They slow down.

The SUV's come two by two down the street, each one identical to the next with the same steely black coat and near-pitch colored windows. Only three rows can round the corner before I'm tow to tow with their lead, and only then do they break.

Alliser's drone buzzes down to float above me, some twenty feet in the air. Behind me I hear the cocking of a dozen and a half guns- Pontetheux and the rest of the garrison must've heard what's going on.

The passenger side of the lead car props itself open by an unseen hand, and an African American man steps out. His suit is pristine, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlight from where they sit on top of his nearly bald head. I judge him to be mid-forties, maybe a little younger.

"Please, John Smith," He says straight to me. "We know who you are, we know what you do here- we come in peace," he nods as the last word is uttered, cementing his statement. I hold up a hand to the garrison behind me to stop, and I assume they do. It'd be informal to turn to find out.

When I don't say anything or do anything else, the man remarks, "That's a nice drone you have, John. May I call you that?"

"Four would be better," I parade my identity to him.

He hesitates for a second. "…Four. Yes, we've heard your little story from the lookouts you sent out from here. About you being a near invincible alien, yes?"

I grin. "Something like that."

He steps forward nervously. "Then obviously, in my eyes… we should have no reason to be hostile to each other, no?"

I chuckle at his hesitance. "No, I guess not."

He holds out a hand to me, a gesture of peace. "Please. We only seek asylum with you and your people, Four."

I motion to the rest of his caravan. "Who'd you bring with?"

He turns around and gazes at the cars with disinterest. "Dignitaries that fled the UN building in time. We managed to secure the representatives from nine different countries, including Germany and the United Kingdom, although I'm not so sure that that sort of thing is relevant any longer."

"And you?"

He points to himself, obviously a very active man. "I was a bodyguard for Bud Sanderson. I'm sure you know him. I'm afraid he was found dead after you and your friends' little show in front of our headquarters- a pity. He died for a good cause, though."

I hold up the walkie-talkie I still clutch. "They're fine, Alliser. Tell Connor and Becca to bring down some food- it's been a long day for everyone," I say into it.

"Got it, boss," Hughes comes back. I wonder where Alliser went.

"You know you're all gonna have to get out of your cars to get over our wall, right?" I ask the bodyguard.

He nods again. "And how do we do that, exactly? I don't see a ladder or the like."

I drop the walkie-talkie in front of my torso, catching it with my mind and hovering it in front of me. I wrap my hands around it like a ball, almost playing with it, never breaking our eye contact. "Like this."

He gasps, looking at the floating communication device in awe. "I had only heard about your abilities, Mr. Smith…," he trails off. The other doors of the car open slightly and five more men piled out, all like the bodyguard- built big, but not so big that it's scary. I assume they're bodyguards as well.

Another man from the first car, white in complexion, saunters towards he. His voice is slightly high-pitched as he holds a hand out to me to shake. "Ioannes Floros, of Greece," He says in highly accented English. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Number Four."

"Nice to meet you too," I say absently.

The others in their party state their names and shake my hand before I float them over the wall. I get bored of it after a while- there's quite a few of them, almost fifty by dead reckoning. They have, indeed, nine representatives, from various countries; most of their bodyguards, some of the bodyguards for the dead or missing representatives, like my friend, and a few of their entourage including two translators and three secretaries.

_Well, the more the merrier._

They file into the building as I watch- I'm not entirely sure how comfortable I am leaving the wall to Pontetheux and the garrison. "Alliser?"

"Still Connor, Alliser has… prior needs. What is it, Smith?" I thought he was to bring down food with Becca, a resourceful refugee we found on our hike here- but I don't ask.

"Tell some me to move tables into position in the lobby. I don't want to get too far away from the battle scene, if anything rough happens."

"Aye-aye," he mocks and cuts his transmission, the static halting.

I nod to Pontetheux and follow the UN members inside.

* * *

[Mark- Blue]

"Sir?" I ask the man in front of me. "Mr. Smith, I need you to explain this."

I'm infuriated. That's the only word for it. I'm angry because this asshole has managed to destroy my entire life. First, he steals my girlfriend. Then, he beats my ass in the Halloween parade. Yesterday he set my house on fire, and now this?

"I need you to explain this video. Sir." I tell him.

Henri Smith glares at me. "Back off. My son is in danger because of you."

In danger? The only danger he's in is being arrested by the cops. So what's this man talking about?

I laugh, almost incredulously. "He's in danger? John Smith? Excuse me, sir, he fucking set fire to my house! And have you even seen the video? Is he like some agent from Russia or something? Are you?"

"Back off." He says again. "I mean it." He tries to force his way past me and into the car, but fails.

"Mr. Smith, you do realize that my father is the head of the police department, right?" I threaten smugly. "If you don't tell me what the hell is going on..."

"Fuck off!" Henri Smith shouts. He grabs me by the shirt, but then shakes his hand off as if electrified.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asks, and his eyes widen, taking a few steps back.

"Mark James." Is he mental? Or is this some clever ploy intended to trick me?

"You don't know who you are." He decides, shaking his head. "You have no idea." A smile appears on his face. "Three Recipients in this very city. The odds..." He trails off, leaving me even more confused.

I open my mouth to ask him if he's lost it, but he interrupts me. "Well. Guess what. You're coming with me. Get in the car. I'll explain on the way."

"Are you out of your Goddamn mind? And what the fuck is a Recipient?" I ask, bemused.

He looks into my eyes, and somehow I know that what he's about to say is going to change my life forever.

"He's awake." Henri Smith tells me, in an unfamiliar, feminine voice.

And I snap back to reality. My eyes are closed, and I'm lying on something cold and hard. The floor? Where am I?

"He's awake." The voice says again.

I try to open my eyes, but the light is blinding. "Where...where am I?" I stutter.

"The basement." Sarah's voice answers. "They've locked the door, gave us a few pieces of bread and a bottle of water. We saved some for you."

"We?" My head hurts from where the Mog hit me. "Who else is there?"

"Me." The voice answers again. I blink, and see a girl crouching next to Sarah. The stranger about the same age as her, with long brown hair and startling green eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?" I probably sound more hostile than I actually intended. "And how long have I been out?"

"A few hours." The stranger answers, a grin on her face. "Pretty impressive. Their stock of their rifles are laced with a rare isotope of titanium. Almost indestructible. I think it took me a couple of days before I recovered after they stormed my house."

Something about the way she talks seems familiar. I can't figure out what, though.

"In case you're wondering," the girl continues, "I didn't put any weapons in the basement. Pretty stupid of me, I guess. Also, the entire exterior of my house is armor plated, and I wouldn't expect your Chimaera to break in."

"We do have a plan, though." Sarah tells me. "It involves blowing stuff up. I think you're going to like it."

"Wait, wait, wait." My head is throbbing; I can't focus. I don't understand what they're saying. "Hold on." I repeat. "Your house?"

"Yeah." The girl answers. "Well, last I checked."

"But..." I think back to GUARD, and how he died. "I thought..."

"The GUARD that you saw was an impostor. I mean, pretty impressive, right? The Mogs managed to get the stereotype right. Wonder if there's Mog nerds back in Mogadore." She answers me.

"I doubt it." Sarah tells her, snickering.

"Then who's the real GUARD?" I ask, confused now.

The girl smiles, as if amused by my question, and her jade green eyes sparkle with mischief. "Are you really that dull, JR? I am the 'guy' that you're looking for. I am GUARD."

* * *

**_Yeah! Thanks guys. Hope you enjoyed!_**


	7. VII - Reluctance & Voices

**HEY GUYS! WE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH!**

**Arctic Blue here, and after much procrastination, television, Crusader Kings II, and arguing about unimportant stuff like the taste of coffee or the existence of inter-chronic translocation, Numero Cinco and I are OFFICIALLY bringing you another chapter of the FURY OF TEN. This time it's Five's and Mark's turn to get the spotlight, and boy, are we excited to continue this after being away for more than 3 weeks.**

**Hope you enjoy these two chapters, and as always, don't forget to read, review, and favorite! **

**Chapter 7 - Reluctance & Chapter 8 - Voices**

* * *

[Five II - Numero Cinco]

Surprisingly, the great Number Nine knows how to sleep. I wouldn't have expected it from the guy- he's too god damn nervous about me stabbing him in his sleep "like I did to his friend Eight." What a card, this guy.

I don't have plans to do anything to him; not yet, in any case. As he snores bear-like, I take the other bed and distantly flip through channels on our television. It's flat screen, which I see getting more and more common in hotel rooms these days. I guess it'll do.

I try not to glance at the bathroom, or even at the _wall_ that separates us from the wall and the bathroom- the water hasn't even stopped yet. The whole of the drywall looks like a wet towel, and about as sturdy as one. _It might not have been the best idea to do that with the tub.._

As I flip, one channel catches my eye. Like most channels, they show New York- but not from Jersey, or Long Island like most cell-phone videos do. This is full up _professional_ _video_- almost HD, but not quite. Nine passes from my mind for a moment as I grope for the volume button on the remote.

The video is from some kind of armored car- I can tell from the hard, metal interior and the tiny window of hardened glass that separates the cameraman from the towering skyscrapers above him. He's on the ground, _somewhere_, in New York, in a… in a tank.

The video shifts to the right and to the left showing that there's a tank flanking our first man on either side, and then looks back ahead and focuses in on something at the end of the road, just around the corner. There's a single pizza shop remaining, untouched, on the corner, and an American Flag waves lightly in the utter silence of the screen.

And past that is a giant wall of cars. Stacked and cemented into the pavement, piled three high, surrounding some kind of building- it sits, squat, no more than five stories high- an outlier in its surroundings. Not even half the windows on the side facing the tanks remain, and inside I can see the hustle and bustle of _a fucking lot _of people. It's like a parade inside that building.

I hear the announcer with a start as they switch back to her- she's slightly wilted in her late fifties, if I had to take a guess, her greying blonde curls swishing as she shakes her head. "Those images are brought to us from the Second Loric Army in New York- or so they call themselves. SLANY leads the fight of the remaining New Yorkers who are still trapped inside the city as the sun sets here today, with that alien warship in the background," she takes a breath and continues, "Headed by a boy named John Smith, the SLANY have a very interesting story to tell us. This is video of Smith's speech to his almost three thousand followers at just two in the afternoon- almost six hours ago."

The announcer's face is gone, and suddenly John is there. The footage is significantly worse than the tank-photographer's, but I can still see him clear as day. I can hear his words as well, chilling me to the bone. Despite it being a balmy seventy-two in here, I still chill.

"My name is John Smith to most- but that's a name I've had for only a few months. Before I was Daniel Jones, and more- I travelled around the country, like all of my kind," He pauses and laughs silently to himself, looking out over the crowd. "I never would've thought I'd tell this story in front of a crowd, I'll have to say. My people, the Loric, and I - we've been on the run from the Mogadorians for eleven years now. They destroyed our planet Lorien in the fall of 1999, for a variety of reasons, but yet we still live. As far as we know, only twenty-one people made it off planet before they managed to get a tight radar to encompass the planet and siege out the remaining strongholds. I am one of these- an alien, who came to Earth to hide and to train, to continue the fight one day. Do I have any questions so far?"

Almost everyones' hand shoots skyward. When John picks one at random and three people talk, he tells them to go in turn. The first one speaks:

"Why didn't you warn us of the imminent attack?" It doesn't sound accusatory, just a genuine question.

John pours over that for a second, racking his brain for the correct answer, the one everyone wants to hear. "Let me ask you, instead. If I had told you that everyone on the planet would be invaded by aliens, would you have taken it seriously?"

This keeps him quiet.

"Besides. My legacies were still forming, I was not yet ready to fight. I am now. Next question?"

The asker is a girl, barely a teenager by the looks of it. She smiles up to John, at his place on the podium, and asks with a gap-toothed grin that I can see through the grains of the cell-phone camera. "What are Leg- Legasies?"

John smiles at this, then looks out at the crowd. "There is much you need to know. First, aliens do exist, as I have said before. Second, they come with superpowers," his grin widens. "Of the twenty-one known escapees from the planet, ten of us were known as Garde. When we come of age, Lorien gifts us powers- these can vary greatly in usage, but all are useful. All Garde are gifted with telekinesis," He lifts up the little girl and pushes her in a slight circle so she rotates a full 360, then sets her back down. Some of the crowd gasp in disbelief, but others seem to have seen John's power in action before.

"I myself also have the power called Lumen, which makes me impervious to heat and gives the ability to control fire. I can also talk to animals, I can heal any wound, lethal or nonlethal at a touch, and like all Garde I have physical enhancements."

"Can you show us?" The girl is so excited at the prospect that John can't resist. He lights his palms and shines them down at his feet, bright lasers that light his pant legs on fire. The whole group takes in a breath sharply as he continues to talk.

"I can control it. I can feel its ebbs and flows. I can shoot fireballs, I can do whatever I want with it," The fire travels quickly up his pants, engulfing everything up to his neck. He continues his speech for a moment like this, standing.

"I won't trouble you with the details of why I'm not naked at the moment, if you don't mind," he tells the little girl, laughing. With one hand motion he strikes downward and the fire goes out, as quickly as it was there.

He points to the other one who started to talk at first. "The third question?"

"Yeah, when you say you were on the run… what if you got, like… caught? Wouldn't that screw things up badly for you guys?

"The Loric elders took every precaution in making us safe and secure until it was our time- they cast an ancient charm on the Nine of us who they could find, branding us together and making it so that we could only be killed in order. Number One died in 2004, somewhere in Malaysia. Number Two died in an apartment in London in 2007, after being tortured for half an hour for information on the rest of us. Number Three died six months ago in the jungles of Kenya. That's when Number Six found me in Ohio after I supposedly destroyed that school. That was the loophole in the Charm- once we come together, the charm is broken.

"We split up, as we knew we must. Six went to Spain to find Seven and a tenth member of the Garde who arrived on a second ship from Lorien, called Ella. I went to the Mogadorian's base of operations in West Virginia and found Nine hidden away in their cells, long forgotten.

"Six, Seven and Ten journeyed to India to find Number Eight. There they teleported back to New Mexico and met up with me and Nine, and there in the desert we had our first showdown with the Mogadorian leader, Sektrakus Ra. He very nearly decimated us, but with the knick-of-time arrival of a Mogadorian defector, Adamus Sutekh, he was forced to retreat.

Now they're all puzzled by this; I can see it on their faces. Disbelief, maybe. Doubt. But then John continues.

"We regrouped in a safehouse in Chicago, in the John Hancock building, which I'm sure you all have heard what happened to in these last few days. We journeyed to Arkansas to find the last of the Garde, Number Five, but he was not who we thought he was. Just as Adamus was a defector to our cause, Five had betrayed us for the Mogadorians. He tricked us into taking a trip into an ambush where he killed Number Eight and split the rest of us up, just four days ago in the Everglades. In Chicago they sacked our safe-house and abducted Ella for unknown reasons.

"And here we stand now. Me, Six, Seven, Nine and Adam- the Second Loric Army, along with our human allies in the Goode family, Sarah Hart and Mark James, as well as Agent Karen Walker and the members of her task force still loyal to her after today.

"Here I stand up here, in front of you, with a plea. If we do nothing, the Mogadorians will do to Earth exactly what they did to Lorien. They have already set up their radar systems, they have already begun the siege of you-our-cities. The fire in John's eyes grows ever brighter as he talks.

"Join us! The time to stand and fight is now! The time to unite is now!"

The crowd erupts in cheers as we transfer back to the interviewer, the old lady with the white-blonde hair. "Here at Channel 9, we stand with the Loric, I don't know about our viewers. They number close to ten thousand in SLANDY as the sun sets, and no doubt there will be more by morning. I think they could use a little help right now. We will continue to update you with the situations in New York and Los Angeles as the night wears on. Stay tuned, we'll be right back," And then they transition to some commercial about toothpaste.

"Johnny Boy's sure a talker, isn't he?" Nine startles me- I wasn't even paying him enough attention to know that he had woken up.

"Yep. He sure is," I grit my teeth ever so slightly. None of what he said is _wrong_, really… I'm just… I don't know how I feel about it. I did slay Eight, I did defect… I like to think I can make up for that. What's the old term? An eye for an eye?

"Well, old boy, I think we should probably be getting back to our… _friend_, right? Join him and his growing army? Get out and murder some Mogs? That is… unless you want to go back to your Beloved Daddy."

I shoot him eyes like hateful icicles. "No. We can't."

He stands, approaches me with a cold stare. "And why not? I don't need you, Flyboy. I'm going, whether you come or not," there's almost no anger in his words. Just as if he's stating a fact.

When I don't say anything, he continues. For whatever reason.

"Look, I _know_ you don't believe anymore. You go to Loric hell for all I care. But _I'm_ not going there, I am not going there." The last part is mostly him mumbling to himself as he rounds the beds, straightening his shirt to cover his still-bloody wounds.

As he moves for the door I grab him on his arm, on a still-open glass cut. He winces and turns around to me, ready to swing. "Do I have to say twice?"

"No, we can't go there. I think there's only one place we _can_ agree to go- and you know as well as I do."

"The fuck are you talking about?" He can't see it. It's been eating at me since I saw that, too- Ella being taken as John falls. These things are spreading way faster than they should be, it's only been hours. But I set it aside when I saw the footage- _She's up there- another of my kind_. _And with _him.

"Ella, Nine! She's up there with Ra, probably being tortured for turning on him! You can't say you feel nothing for her, I've seen you two!"

His gaze, if it is possible, turns even more to stone. He rips my hand away, but doesn't make for the door this time. "What makes you think we could do it?"

"Low radar profile, mostly."

He shoots me a quizzical look.

"I mean, being just the two of us would give a very safe ascent to their warship floating above the bay! That's how we can get her- both of us know that's where she is."

He nods.

"And I don't think I can rescue her alone, Nine. I just don't think I can."

That wins the asshole over. "I figured as much, Flyboy," he stomps a few more steps forward in deep concentration. Then he turns around. "Fine. We'll go it your way. But don't think for a second I'm doing it for you, you hear?"

It's my turn to nod.

* * *

[Mark II - Arctic Blue]

The door creaks open, an ugly sound that wakes me from my dreams. _They're here_, I realize. _They're here to execute us._

A Mog comes out of the darkness, his teeth bared. He pulls out a blaster, and aims it at my head. "Come. The leader requires your presence."

"What leader?" I ask, snorting. "You mean the dude that hit me on the head? He's your leader?"

"Quiet!" The Mog hisses. "Anything you say will only make your death more painful." He points with his blaster. "All of you, out."

My head still hurts from the Mog's blow, and I'm a little dizzy when I get up. Sarah notices my discomfort and shoots me a look like: _Are you sure you're okay?_ I nod, and walk out the door.

After hours in the basement, the sudden appearance of light is blinding, and for a second I don't see anything. Then my eyes take in the luxury of GUARD/Amber's (I still haven't wrapped my mind around the fact that the girl before me is the person I've talked with so much online) mansion, which sort of makes me feel bad about what we're about to do.

It was her plan; and she didn't seem to have any qualms about it, which makes me wonder how rich she actually is. I protested at first; this place seemed like a great hideout for our "rebel army". But since there weren't any other options, the girls talked me into doing my part.

_It's going to work. _I hear a voice inside my head telling myself. _You'll do fine._

Amber comes out of the basement, followed by Sarah. I really wish BK was here; he could definitely kill all the Mogs in a second. But our beagle is outside, and probably wondering where we are, as well as why we've forgotten to let him in.

Two more Mogs join us, and point their blasters to my friends. "Walk." The Mog aiming at me says, and I do what he says. We enter the computer room where we saw the impostor GUARD's execution, and their leader is waiting for us, grinning.

"Learned your lesson, have you?" He cackles. "Well, too bad. You lot are going to die anyways."

I ignore his japes and focus on the monitors beside me, memorizing the locations of the warships. There's now four in Asia, one in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and one in Antarctica. _They're planning to suck this planet dry of its resource_s, the voice inside my head says. _Just like they did with Lorien._

Just then, the icon for one of the warships - a large one in some place near Mexico - starts flashing rapidly, and veers off course. The Mog notices it too, and stares in disbelief. "What's happening to the Calakmul warship?"

"It's been compromised." One of his subordinates responds. "The hostage escaped."

"The traitor?" He shouts in outrage. "He would do this to his own kind? I need to speak to my niece. Bring her online, now!"

"Sir." The soldier starts nervously. "Commander Phiri Dun-Ra was captured by Sutekh. Her vitals are normal, but her comms have been offline ever since."

The name Sutekh rings a bell inside my mind. _It's Adam, the Mog defector_, I think. _The one with the earthquake Legacy. What the hell is going on in the Sanctuary? And how on earth did he escape from a huge ass war ship?_

"Perhaps you might need to upgrade your warship's weapon systems." Amber replies snidely, shaking me from my thoughts. "We don't want more Mog women falling in the wrong hands, don't you think? Who knows what might happen to them?"

"You…" The Mog is infuriated, and fumbles for his blaster. "Never mind the boy. I will kill you first!" _This is your chance, _the voice tells me. _Go! _Before he fires, I run to the nearest panel and enter the code that Amber taught me, tapping at the keyboard faster than I've ever done in my entire life. Sarah uses the distraction to land a vicious blow on her captor's head and take his gun away. She starts firing at the Mogs.

"Explosive systems online." An artificial feminine voice tells me. "Activate command sequence?"

"Activate!" I shout over the sounds of the gunfire. Behind me, more Mogs are rushing into the room, their blasters cocked.

"Kill them!" The Mog leader screams, waving desperately at his soldiers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Amber grab Sarah's hand and leap out of the window, leaving me by myself to deal with the army.

I turn around and do the only thing that comes to my mind: I kick the Mog in the balls, and dive out of the window myself. The air brushes against my face as i hear the furious cries of the Mogs behind me, mixed with the howling of the wind.

I hit the ground, hard; the impact knocks the breath out of me; somehow i force myself into a rolling position and manage to not break any bones. Behind me, the mansion explodes with a deafening blast, vaporizing the Mogs in it.

Sarah cheers and I manage a weak smile. Somehow I managed to tap in the correct sequence on the panel out of sheer luck. Leave it to GUARD to set a system of explosives inside her own house.

"Mark, you're wounded." GUARD suddenly notes, pointing at my leg. I look down, and find a large shard of glass sticking out of my thigh. Strangely, it doesn't hurt, and I pull the whole thing off easily. When I look down, no blood seems to be coming out the the wound.

"That's weird." I wonder out loud. "I don't feel anything at all. Must be the adrenaline."

_It's not,_ the voice inside my head tells me, and I realize that it isn't my voice at all. It's much deeper, and I can vaguely detect the presence of a Southern accent. Startled, I jump to my feet, but there's no one there except for Sarah and Amber, and both girls look at me like I've lost my mind.

I manage an apologetic smile, then think to whoever's there inside my mind: _Who are you? And what do you mean?_

_To answer your first question, Mark James, I am a friend. My exact identity doesn't matter at the moment, though I will tell you soon. And it's not the adrenaline that's healing your wound and relieving you of your pain. It's the power of Lorien. _The voice tells me again. _But more of that later. If I'm correct, you've alerted every Mog nearby to your presence with that act._

As if to prove him right, a bunch of black cars pull in on the ruined driveway.

* * *

"Go faster!" Sarah shouts from behind. "They're getting closer!"

The truck squeals again as I grip the wheel tightly. I'm zipping through the streets of Atlanta; thankfully, everyone's under curfew, so we're the only vehicles out here. I hear the familiar sound of a Mog rifle cocking, and turn the car sharply right into another street, narrowly avoiding a hail of blaster fire.

"Well, that was close." Amber observes. She looks down at my laptop. "Where to?"

"New York." Sarah tells her. "We're gonna regroup with John and the rest of the Loric."

"In that case, take the nearest exit to your left." Amber says.

Another volley of blaster fire skids past, badly burning the side of the car. "At this rate, we won't even reach the highway, much less New York!" I shout. "We need to think of another plan!"

Suddenly, a gigantic griffon flies past our truck and lands on the Mog vehicles; he snaps one in half with his beak, and crushes another with his talons. "BK!" I shout with glee. "Boy, am I glad to see you again!"

"Is that your pet Chimaera?" Amber asks us, not in the least surprised, but slightly amused. "He's so cute!"

"BK's a beagle, mostly, and he belongs to a friend of ours." Sarah says. As if on cue, BK flies inside our truck and morphs into his usual canine form. He lands on Sarah's lap and she begins stroking his fur. "But yeah, he is pretty adorable."

"Saved my ass a couple of times, too." I tell Amber. "That's more than any beagle's ever done for me."

Five minutes later, we're on the highway to New York. We still have no idea where the rest of the Loric are; but John's still presumably where he last contacted us. GUARD's trying to hack into any computer she can find in NY that's still intact, but isn't very successful; the presence of the warship must've disabled every electronic device nearby.

We met a kid on the way out of Atlanta, a big burly Asian dude that couldn't have been older than 15, and tried to ask him what he knew on the status of the resistance. He totally ignored us and mumbled something about "Kate, Porky, and an ocean", so we decided that he must've been traumatized by the whole Mog invasion, and left him alone to look for his ship.

"His ship?" Sarah asked, worried. "Are you sure he isn't trying to board one of the Mog ships?"

"We don't even know where they are." I say. "Closest one in the vicinity is the New York warship, which is where we're going."

I'm trying to talk to the dude that spoke to me in my head, but it won't work, for some reason. He's not responding, so I think about what he told me. The power of Lorien? Sarah said that some of the Garde were trying to get to a sacred Loric temple: Sanctuary, they called it. They might've been more successful than they've realized.

John's the only one who can figure out what this means; I need to get to him and the rest of the gang.

"Any luck contacting the rest of the Garde?" I ask Sarah.

She shakes her head. "It's not like I have their cellphone numbers or something."

"Guys!" Amber suddenly exclaims. "I hacked into a computer somewhere in New York. It belongs to a certain", she checks her screen, "Beck Alliser. Name ring a bell?"

"Wasn't he one of our first first contacts back when we were trying to gather information?" I reply. "The dude who told us all about MogPro?"

"Yeah, that's the guy. He must've attached his computer to a signal amplifier. He'll know that it's a one way connection though. What info I send in doesn't come out; sorta like an info black hole. It's an absolute loss of information once it reaches the event horizon." She chuckles, then continues. "Think about that. The Mogs just proved a paradox false using their weird technology. Though of course, the mere connection itself manifests the idea of inter-chronic translocation, using an unstable link to connect to the source computer in all future sites of the time-space continuum."

"Um... what?" I ask. Sarah seems puzzled too, but she laughs and gently taps Amber on the shoulder. "I'd hate to be the one that's sprouting clichés, but next time could you just use English, please?"

Amber sighs dramatically. "Fine. Basically I can talk to him, but he can't talk to me because of the jammer of the warship. He can access the internet, though, so if I give him a private and secure link to open in Internet Relay Voice Chat..." She types a few keys. "Done."

"This is TWAU." Amber says. "Give current status of NY, ASAP."

A voice, mixed with static, comes in frantically. "This is Alliser; we're cornered by the Mogs; built a defensive wall around Madison Square. Wall has been breached, I repeat, wall has been breached! Evacuating all personnel and other citizens to Ashwood, Four's orders, over!"

"Say again, Alliser?" I ask. "Did not copy, please repeat. Over."

"Wall has been breached! They're using their war-ship, we are unable to attack them! I repeat, they are too high in altitude, we are retreating, over."

_Shit. They're one step ahead of us._ "Alliser, please give current status of Four, over."

"Four is safe and unharmed." I hear a trace of doubt in his voice. "But..."

"But what?" Sarah interrupts. "Who's missing?"

"They sneaked up on us." Alliser tells us. "Goode is missing in action, assumed dead."

* * *

**Did you spot the Percy Jackson cameo there? If not, go back and look for it (hint, it's in the Mark chapter). If so, as a fellow Percy Jackson fan I must congratulate you for having a keen eye for these things. YAY!**

**And what did you think about the cliffhanger there? What will happen to Sam and will we EVER find out? Stay tuned for the next two chapters, starring Ella and John!**

**-Arctic Blue**


	8. VIII - Assassin

**Hey ****guys, it's Arctic, and sorry again for the lack of updates - NumeroCinco has been busy with nanowrimo, and I've been busy with things of my own :(**

**But anyways, you might've noticed that this is a special chapter - that's right, we've decided to write all the Ella chapters in third person, mainly because we feel that it would support her character development throughout the fanfic. So give us some feedback - is third person better, or should we stick to first person?**

**And as always, don't forget to read, review, and follow!**

* * *

[Ella II - Arctic Blue]

She was fast asleep, lying on her uber-large bed, when something didn't feel right. She rubbed her eyes and tried to snap out of her dreams, trying to place what it was.

Then she noticed it: the alarm was ringing again.

Ella reached for Necreria underneath her pillow; she always placed it there in case she needed to defend herself from horrible monsters like Piken, Kraul, and Setrakus Ra. Feeling the blade in her hands, she instantly felt stronger, less vulnerable.

_It's just an alarm, _she thought. _I've dealt with this before, all I need to do is..._

Something shook the _Anubis, _and Ella heard the sound of explosions. She cursed silently: weapons were firing, hundreds of blasters at once. There was something going on outside; a battle, perhaps. If so, she doubted that John and the rest of the survivors could win.

Ella reached out with her telepathy, trying to send a message to Nine. It was a tedious process, like trudging through a pool of sludge while dragging a sack of flour behind you. She figured that the ship had some kind of jammer, placed there no doubt by Setrakus Ra to prevent her from communicating with the others. _Come on_, she said to herself. _I can do this, I've done it before._

She heard a burst of static inside her mind, and almost collapsed in relief. Leaning against her bedroom wall, she searched for Nine's voice. _Nine, are you there? _Ella thought. _They're attacking, tell John and Sam!_

Yet Nine did not respond.

_Nine? _Ella tried again, but this time the static disappeared altogether, leaving her in complete silence and solitude.

_Keep it together, keep it together. _Ella told herself. _John will be fine, he'll probably kick some Mog asses. _But how were you supposed to destroy an entire army with only fireballs as your arsenal?

Ella waited, and waited, then waited some more, until the lack of information was all too frustrating; she had to get out and see. She changed into her shirt and pants, sneaking outside of her bedroom door. She almost jumped in surprise. No one was on patrol; the corridor outside was completely empty.

Then the wail of the siren disappeared completely, and an eerie silence crept across the ship. Ella walked with a sense of dread, no particular destination in mind. Her footsteps rang on the cold metallic floor, so loudly that she thought that someone would notice her eventually, but no one came. She was all by herself.

The first time the alarms rang, Ella was training was Setrakus Ra. Surprised, she asked him what it was, and Ra replied that one of the warships was in battle with the Garde. Terrified, Ella had ran into her room and tried to contact Nine. He told her that he was fine, and that it was probably Marina, Six and Adam in Calakmul. No one died that day, though she had a strong suspicion that the warship exploded after the battle.

The second time, Ella was eating dinner; one of the digital maps on her right showed her that a Mog squad was tracking down human rebels somewhere in Atlanta. She didn't know who the humans were, but still felt strangely reassured that there still was someone fighting for the Loric cause.

But this time it was different. Apart from the initial sound of the blaster fire, Ella could not hear a sound, which led her to believe that either she was deaf, or someone had trapped her inside a soundproof section of the _Anubis._

She cursed silently and tried to conjure up a mental map of the warship inside her head. Ella had walked from her bedroom, which was on the north wing, to the east sector's medical bay. Yes, she was at the medical bay. She could see the clean, freshly made beds in a row right in front of her even now.

Yet the patients were absent. The wounded had been evacuated, probably. But to where? Ella started to turn around, but suddenly stopped in her tracks. _This could be the perfect opportunity, _she thought. _No one will see me._

She crept by the automated sliding doors, and to her surprise they slid open immediately. She tiptoed to the huge shelf where they stored the medicines for the Mogs. She skimmed through the labels, trying to find what she was looking for.

Her eyes focused on a bottle of red liquid that FATUOCYL_. _She carefully picked it up, and read the description. _Yes. This is exactly what I need. _Walking back to the sink, Ella picked up a small test tube, and filled it with the liquid. Under the fluorescent light, the drug had a sinister glow. _All the better to kill you with, _Ella thought.

She put the fatuocyl back on the shelf, and carefully walked through the automated doors. Now she had to check the command room. Surely she could find Setrakus there. First she would ask him a few questions about why her section of the ship had been evacuated. Hopefully she'd catch him in a good mood. Then she'd offer him a glass of wine, and pour the contents of the test tube in the glass without him noticing. The rest would be simple.

Ella summoned Necreria into her hands, gripping the tight leather. She would relish the feeling when the blade went into Ra's heart, spilling out his black blood. But why were her palms sweating? And why was there a feeling of dread inside her?

His Mogs killed Crayton. She thought, almost as if to remind herself of the evils that Setrakus Ra had committed over the years. They killed Henri, they killed Katarina, they killed Adelina, they killed Reynolds, they killed Sandor. And Eight. Worst of all, Setrakus Ra had persuaded Five to murder one of his own kind. Her resolve hardened. He would die tonight, before he could ever harm another innocent life.

Ella arrived at the command room. To her relief, she heard the familiar sound of Mog chattering. Sure enough, Setrakus Ra sat at his seat in the center of the room, his officers listening to his every command.

Ra was in the middle of a tactical discussion, that much Ella could tell. Ra's tactical advisors were the most tedious of all Mogs, with their wearing grey, drab suits and looking all like fat pale grandfather zombies. She wasn't close enough to hear their entire conversation, but she did pick up some interesting words like "Garde", "Invasion", and "Warship". So they were talking about the battle underneath them! Hardly surprising, but she found it odd that she hadn't seen any Mog soldiers being deployed yet. Could it be that they all left?

"Ella!" Setrakus Ra found her eavesdropping on the conversation. "Why are you up so early?"

She entered the room. There was no use in hiding any more. "I heard the alarm." Ella replied. "I thought I'd check on everyone. Are things all right?" She brought up a tray that contained two glasses of wine and sat in her seat, the one next to Setrakus's.

"We just initiated a frontal assault on the New York resistance army." Setrakus Ra said, in a detached tone. "I'm expecting multiple casualties. The Garde may escape, of course, but that's not the point of this attack. It's to show the humans our power."

Ella nodded, gulping. People were dying out there - innocent people who had their own lives, people who had parents and children, people who loved and were loved. And she couldn't do anything to stop it.

No, that impossibility lay on John's shoulders. All Ella could do was watch.

"That's wise." She said, forcing a smile. At the same time, she hated herself for saying it. "Why haven't I seen any soldiers being deployed?"

One of the tactical advisors answered this time. "We're using the _Anubis _directly. No troops will be needed for this battle."

_ So that's why I haven't heard anything! _She thought. Mog ships had to activate soundproof barriers when they were deployed in battle, Ella remembered. Of course, the disabling of sound was only a side effect. The barriers disabled any electromagnetic pulses and other kinds of jammers attempting to sabotage the aircraft.

Then she felt nauseous. When Setrakus Ra was talking about casualties, he didn't mean a dozen, or maybe even a hundred. He was hinting at the destruction of thousands of people. Mog troops were limited in effectiveness with Garde nearby, but warships were not. Ella had been fully informed of the capabilities of the Anubis. Every time each blaster fired, five people would die.

There was no doubt about it now. She couldn't stop the invasion, but she could prevent more from happening. She had to kill this smug son of a bitch right now. But she couldn't do it, with the presence of all these Mogs. She had to carry out her plan.

"For Mogadorian Progress." She raised her glass as a toast, and Setrakus Ra followed. Her tongue burned at those revolting words. But she had to play a part.

Ella drained her glass of wine, and Ra did the same.

_You're too slow, old man, _she thought, smiling a grim smile. _I win. _For when Ra had been immersed with the plans of his advisors, Ella had poured the fatuocyl into his glass.

Now all she had to do was to shove the knife inside his evil heart.

* * *

In the next few minutes, Ella was nervous. Setrakus Ra hadn't shown a single sign of fatigue. What if the drug hadn't worked? What if Setrakus had super-metabolism or something?

And what was happening underneath the hull of the Anubis? She fought back the urge to try and communicate with John, to check on his status. Setrakus might notice. And then her entire plan would be spoiled. _I can't prevent these deaths, _Ella thought. miserably. _There's nothing I can do. _There was nothing more agonizing than the feeling of powerlessness Ella experienced now.

And yet there it was - Setrakus Ra briefly closed his eyes, and his head drooped forward, an almost imperceptible motion. When his eyes opened again, they were filled with weariness. To anyone else, it would've seemed like Ra was still talking to his advisors as if nothing had happened, but Ella knew the significance of what she saw.

The drug was doing its job.

Then Ra yawned, an almost comical sound coming from his lips. His Mog advisors looked up at him in surprise. _They've probably never seen their leader tired before, _Ella thought, excitedly.

"Beloved Leader," a Mog asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. you fool!" Ra snapped. "I just need some rest."

"Grandfather," Ella said, careful not to give anything away. "May I escort you to your chambers?"

His expression softened. "Of course, my dear." He stood up and stared at his advisors. "Continue the assault. I expect to see New York successfully conquered by the end of the day." Ra stood up and gestured for Ella to follow him.

She smiled innocently, and got to her feet. Then she made a big show of putting Necreria on the table. Together, they left the command room.

Ella thought she knew every inch of the Anubis, but when Setrakus Ra placed his finger on a sensor she never knew existed before, it was like she'd entered an entirely different world. Ra was on the brink of collapsing from the drug, yet somehow he still found his way, as if navigating through a labyrinth that he had built himself. Ella tried to keep up and figure out her general location, but after a while she gave up. There was no use in trying, anyway.

Finally they reached a set of magnificent golden doors, with intricate drawings of what looked like a solar system. Ella tried opening them, but they were locked tight. Setrakus cleared his throat and put his palm on a planet that looked suspiciously like Lorien, and the doors fell back, and a dimly lit room was revealed.

"I'll leave you now, grandfather." Ella said softly. "Should I get someone to wake you up when we prevail?"

"That's very kind of you, dear." He hobbled into the room like the old man he was, and the doors closed behind him.

Ella waited. She wasn't sure how long it would take for Setrakus to fall asleep - she guessed five minutes or so - and she certainly wasn't going to take chances. She sat down on the cold metallic floor, dreading what was to come.

After what seemed like forever, she finally steeled her nerves and put her palm on the orb, just like she had seen Setrakus do a few minutes ago. To her surprise, the doors opened, and she tiptoed into the room.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she found herself in a spacious yet simple room, very sparingly decorated by semi-precious gems. Right before her was a massive bed, where a single figure - Ra! - lay slumbering. She crept to the edge of his bed, took a deep breath, and summoned her knife. Even in the dim light of Setrakus's room, Necreria had an eerie beauty. Its point shimmered, turning into a startling violet, as if in anticipation of its first kill.

Ella gripped her knife with both hands, closed her eyes, and shoved it down into Setrakus Ra's heart.

* * *

**Cliffhanger :O**

**By the way, the next chapter's hopefully coming out sometime later this week, and will either be a John or Marina PoV (or maybe both, depending on whether or not NumeroCinco has time) Also, who's excited for the new Lost Files coming out in December? :P (I know it'll screw up our fanfic but I DON'T CARE I WANT TO READ IT NOW)**

**Anyways, thank you guys so much for reading our fanfic - it means so much to us :D**

**-Blue**


End file.
